The Waking of Titans
by neoolong
Summary: As heroes across the world rise and take their place, so to do the villains. And the world will never be the same for their conflict. Sequel to Way of the Warrior.
1. Prologue: Birthday Party

**Prologue: Birthday Party**

Sunnydale, California

"What's that?" Buffy asked, walking into the warehouse without preamble. She was a little annoyed, her frustration having come to a head. Vi had advised that she let Xander reveal who the girl that he was dating was in his own good time, but a couple of weeks of nothing was pushing it. Coupled with Xander being pretty scarce of late, it was enough to get her curiosity up to eleven.

Picking up the remote control, Xander paused the tape, the screen freezing on a flickering image of a man getting kneed in the side. He didn't need to look to know that Buffy had her arms crossed and an intent expression on her face. "Redemption. UFC 17."

Xander glanced over at the Slayer as she moved around and took a seat on the couch across from him. He smiled at her a little as she sat down. "New guy, Liddell versus a Spanish guy."

Buffy looked at the screen, the image a little grainy and choppy in freeze frame. Not exactly a legitimate videotape most likely. "He looks like a truck driver."

Xander shrugged, moving his chair over to face her, the legs scrapping on the concrete floor. "Yeah, I suppose he does. What's up?"

"So who is she?" Buffy asked, getting back on subject. Her face hardened a little more to show her focus. She knew that Willow had asked before, and Xander had deflected easily. Likely a testament to how well the two knew each other. She wouldn't let that happen with her.

Xander just looked at her. He didn't want to lie to her, but he also knew that he couldn't exactly be straight with her. Despite her relationship with Angel, he didn't think she'd be okay with it without major convincing. At least her relationship hadn't technically broken any laws. Despite the fact that it was only a handful of months until his eighteenth birthday, it still wasn't something that he really wanted to deal with at the moment.

Still looking at her, Xander just played coy. "Who?"

Staring back at him, Buffy spoke through slightly grit teeth, though she was more annoyed than angry. It was the evasiveness that had gotten to her more than anything. "Vi says you're going out with a girl. From your…trip. Something we would have thought you'd share with your bestest buds."

"Right," Xander said, scratching his neck to buy time. "Uh, she's not from around here. We're doing this whole long distance thing and yeah, it's a thing. She's older than I am, and there's this whole thing and we decided to keep it kinda quiet. We don't even know where's it's going to go exactly. So…until we figure it out, she and me decided to not really make it this whole big thing."

None of which was strictly a lie, but Buffy was more than likely to be displeased him when she found out, thought it would likely be coming from a good place. But, better silence than Jenny getting into trouble. That and he wasn't even sure what he just said.

Buffy just continued to stare at him, only quizzically this time. She didn't really understand what he just said. "What?"

Xander looked down at his wrist, then back at her. He smiled a little. "Saved by the bell. I have to go. You know the whole birthday party thing."

He got up and turned off the VCR and the TV. Picking up a wrapped box from the table, he looked at Buffy again. "I'll see you, I guess."

Buffy nodded, getting up herself. "Fine. But this isn't over."

It was a mystery that was tickling at her, and one that wouldn't stop until she figured it out.

Xander just smiled back at her.

xxx

Outside Picacho, Arizona

Amadeus stood on the side of the road, his scooter standing next to him. There were no cars on the highway at the moment, though he still kept an eye on it. He had almost been discovered a few times, and though they had been wearing government tagged clothing, the genius knew that they couldn't be trusted. He hadn't made much progress on figuring out who had tried to kill him, but at least he was still free. They weren't making it easy though.

"Just tell us where you are, Amadeus. We can be anywhere in the country within an hour." The voice came over the headset. It was an indeterminate accent, but the speaker was female. She also sounded serious. And almost official.

The Korean boy just frowned, looking at the black asphalt surface of the road. A grayish colored coyote was lying near the median strip, likely hit by a car. "Why don't you meet me at my house? No, wait, that's not gonna work, because you blew it up."

The voice on the other side audibly exhaled. "We didn't do that, Amadeus. That was the enemy."

"The enemy?" Amadeus echoed. "How stupid do you think I am."

"Not very. You were smart enough to get on our radar. Smart enough to slip through our perimeter. Smart enough to call me on a line which three roomfuls of our top people can't seem to trace." The voice didn't sound very impressed though. It was more matter of fact statement than complimentary. "To be precise, we think you're the seventh smartest person on the planet. Which is why we want you to work for us. And why the enemy wants you dead."

"If you want me to trust you, then tell me who they are." Amadeus stated into the mouth piece. He frowned as he noticed movement. It was a small furry animal, one of the coyote's pups that didn't understand that its mother was dead.

"You know I can't do that. We have no idea who's after you," the voice replied, barely constrained exasperation clear over the line. "Amadeus, we can help you with this. You just have to let me bring you in."

Amadeus scoffed, and walked to the striped yellow line in the middle of the freeway. He knelt down and carefully picked up the coyote puppy. It wiggled in his hands, but didn't try to bite him. "If you know that I'm the seventh smartest person on the planet, then you know there's no conceivable way I can trust you based on the information I have right now. This conversation is over. Goodbye, Agent Sexton"

"Wait, Amadeus," the voice pleaded on the other side. "If they catch you, they'll use you to destroy the world as we know it. For all of our sakes, please stay out of trouble."

Amadeus just looked down at the cobbled together cell phone he held in his left hand. He pushed the off button and shoved it into his pocket. Looking down at the puppy in his other hand, he smiled at it a little, the pup yelping a little as if it was hungry. "Stay out of trouble. Not likely."

xxx

Charming, California

Xander headed in the direction of the noise. It was a bright and clear day, though a little cold given the season. There were a few smatterings of people in the park enjoying the crisp autumn weather, though the biggest congregation was a mixed group of people near the picnic tables and barbecue grills. There were adults, singles, and people in groups, families most likely. The kids, more than he would have expected for his uncle's birthday party, were running around. A party was a party after all.

He glanced over at the bikes that were parked in the parking lot off to the side, then at the large number of men in biker leathers. It was a slightly incongruous image, with the kids and all, but nobody seemed particularly concerned about the rather rough and tumble individuals that were there.

Shrugging it off, Xander placed the gift that he had in his hands on a table that had other wrapped boxes. Walking around the dirt area, he saw people examine him, some with a little bit of suspicion. He let it slide over him as he looked for his uncle. After all, he was an outsider, and it wasn't like he recognized anybody. Small town charm at its finest.

It didn't take long for him to find his uncle, as he was surrounded by a decent sized group of men in black leather. As he approached, he examined the back of one of them, shoulder length blonde hair giving way to a logoed leather jacket. A black and white grim reaper clutched an assault rifle turned scythe in one boney hand, and a ball with an A on it with the other. Apparently, the man was a "Son of Anarchy" according to the banner at the top. The name was vaguely familiar, but he didn't recall off-hand.

"Uncle Rory," Xander said, watching as the group of men turned as one to face him. He noticed some judgment as they looked at him, as well as some suspicion, likely due to having interrupted their conversation. He was a little struck by the differences in the group. One was near his uncle's age, though he looked tough and carried a good bit of muscle. The others were younger, though they had their differences as well. From a skinny young man with sandy hair to a Hispanic man with a goofy smile and a tattooed and mohawked head. It was an eclectic bunch if there ever was one.

Rory smiled broadly as he saw his nephew. He stepped forward and waved for Xander to come closer. "Guys, this is my nephew. Alexander."

"Xander," Xander muttered, stepping closer and hugging his uncle. It didn't last too long, as his uncle quickly introduced him to the others.

"This is Clay, he runs an auto shop in town," Rory said, waving a hand at the club president.

"Nice to meet you," Xander said, grasping Clay's rough hand and shaking it. There was some challenge in there he supposed, but it was polite as well.

Clay nodded. "Nephew, unh. Good to meet ya."

Xander nodded back and went on through the group. Shaking hands with the rest down the line. They seemed a nice enough lot, though he did wonder what some of the patches on their vests and jackets meant. It didn't take long before he was integrated with the group. He was quickly handed a plate of barbecued chicken and a red plastic cup of soda. Soon after he was milling around in the crowd and found himself talking to a pretty brunette about her kids, her husband talking to a few of the men in the motorcycle club. He noticed that she was a little displeased at that, and seemed to be a little tense overall.

Xander was about to comment, when he heard the loud noise of multiple engines approach from the street parallel to them. From the throaty roar, it sounded like motorcycles coming towards them. Turning around, Xander noticed a number of riders approach. His eyes narrowed for a moment, then widened as he noticed them slow and pull weapons.

"Gun!" shouting, Xander pulled the woman next to him down to the dirt as the gang of riders opened up on the whole group. He soon heard screaming and crying as people scattered and tried to duck behind cover as bullets impacted around them.

xxx

Near Mt. Huà Shān, China

The bald man, dressed in the orange robes of a Buddhist monk, rang the bell again. He stared intently at the black mouth of the cave in front of him. He had been at it for a few minutes, whispering incantations under his breath, but it had yet to have an effect. The wind whipped past him as he stood on the rough surface of the wide, but he ignored it. His duty was all that mattered. He could feel the rumblings from deep within the mountain, and knew that the demon had heard the summoning. It would not be long now.

Nearby, another man stood, ignoring the cold and wind as well. He too had a shaved head, and was dressed in a white robe that fluttered in the wind. He clenched his right hand, the metal prosthetic clanging together a little as his fingertips touched his palm. The armored metal prosthesis went all the way up to his elbow, steel plates overlapping thickly like dragon scales. Only a red triangular crystal set on the back of the hand broke up the steel finish.

"Master Temugin," the monk said, having stopped his incantation. He craned his head over at the other man, bowing in deference. "It comes."

As if it had waited for the right time to appear, a huge lumbering shape rushed out of the cave. The monk barely had time to get to cover before it had rushed past. It was almost bipedal in nature, though it ran along on all fours, and the stench was almost overwhelming. With white pupil-less eyes, and rotted skin with only patches of hair, it looked almost like a dead and decaying bear. Misshapen as it was, it had overly large yellow claws and sharp teeth.

Temugin faced it without fear, staring up at it as it pulled back onto its hind legs and roared. He could feel heat as the monster exhaled, but he stood his ground.

The monster stared down at the interloper of its territory, not understanding why the man did not run away from his bellow. Reaching back, it swiped a huge paw at the man, much faster than would have seemed possible.

Gracefully, Temugin ducked underneath the large arm, feeling it whip by inches above his head. He leapt into the air and pulled his right arm back and clenched his arm into a fist. It wasn't long before he reached the arc of his jump and he fell towards the beast, fist aimed at the monster's head.

xxx

Charming, California

Xander looked carefully over the table that he was hiding behind. The bikers had stopped, getting off of their bikes and were now aiming more carefully with their weapons. It had been an unintended benefit that they had started firing before they had stopped, giving the majority of the party the time to take cover before they were hit. The ones that hadn't been lucky were lying on the ground, blood starting to pool already.

Gunfire sounded behind him, and Xander turned to see that the Sons had pulled handguns and were returning fire. It was a little haphazard, as they too had to find cover. He knew that it wouldn't be enough against the shotguns and automatic weapons that the other bikers carried against them in addition to pistols.

"Ellie!" the woman next to him screamed, drawing his attention.

Xander looked over the table again and saw a young girl crying on the grass in front of him, too scared to move. As far as he could tell, she hadn't been hit yet, but with the way that the lead was flying, it wouldn't be too long before she was.

"Shit," Xander grunted as he shuffled to the side of the table. He ran forward as fast as he could, as low as he could, heading straight towards the girl. He could hear bullets whiz by as he skidded to a stop, a line of dirt and grass thrown up as bullets from an UZI stitched their way towards him. Scooping the child up in his arms, Xander rushed to his right into a small group of trees moments before the bullets crossed his path. He breathed hard as he sat her down behind the trunk of a particularly large oak. Checking her over, he tried to calm her down, glad not to have found any wounds. She was still crying, but she would be okay. "Stay here."

Looking around, Xander watched as Clay and his step-son Jax started to approach the other bikers, firing as they went. He knew that they would soon be overwhelmed as more bikes roared up, bringing more guns into the mix. Shaking his head, he knew what he had to do.

"What is he doing?" Clay muttered as he watched the kid he had met only an hour or so before ran towards a few of the Mayans that had attacked the party. He had to smile a little as he saw the boy quickly disarm two of them, and then pick up their guns and shoot them in the chest.

Looking around, Clay yelled out towards a large man with stringy wavy brown hair that was hiding behind a brick and stone barbecue grill. "Bobby, cover the boy. We need to get these people out of here."

Bobby nodded, concentrating his fire on the bikers that were trying to advance. Luckily there wasn't much cover between the street and the tables and trees where the partygoers and the rest of the Sons were pinned down. It meant that the Mayans couldn't advance, not until they ran out of ammo or the Mayans decided to chance it. He didn't give them that much credit though.

Rolling to avoid gunfire, Xander came up in a crouch firing his stolen weapons in both hands. He barely noticed as he watched men go down, blood spurting from chests as they were shot. A few others that tried to flank him were taken down, the Sons doing their best to stop the bikers from moving any closer. He had to dive behind one of their bikes, as a particularly large man with a mustache and goatee fired a cut-down shotgun at him. Buckshot pinged against the metal surface of the motorcycle as Xander landed behind it with a thud.

He stood quickly and shot the biker in the throat, the slide locking back, and heard gurgling as the other man fell to the ground. The other gun was already empty. Approaching, Xander dropped the handguns that had gone dry and pulled a revolver from the dead biker's waistband. He had to raise it quickly and snapped a shot off as a biker with a shaved head rushed him carrying a knife. Xander turned as he heard a car approach, a blue SUV barreling toward him, the man next to the driver firing through the windshield.

Grunting, Xander rushed forward, only slowing long enough to grab another gun. He had to carefully plan his jump in a rush, leaping onto the hood of the car as it decelerated into the fight. Firing into the windshield, Xander hopped up onto the roof of the vehicle, firing both guns through it as he avoided the rounds sent in his direction. He stitched a line of bullets through the thin sheet metal, plastic, and fabric, jumping off the rear of the car as he finished. Rolling and turning around, he noticed the car veer to the side and crash into a telephone pull, the driver dead. A man in the back seat tried to get out, but Xander shot him in the head, barely noticing him slump down onto the curb.

Turning some more, Xander scanned the area, seeing the Sons approach. The advance and gunfire from the bikers had broken the ranks of the other club, the remaining few getting back on their bikes and riding off.

He saw a few people lying on the grass, clutching various body parts as they screamed in pain. There were probably a few dead, though they had surely gotten off lucky in light of the strong attack. A motorcycle snarled past him, and he turned his head to follow it. Raising the revolver, Xander tracked it and fired once, tagging the escaping man in the shoulder and forcing him off the bike. He strode forward as the man skid and rolled to a stop, the motorcycle flipping on its front wheel and slamming into the sidewalk.

Xander got a good look at the man's face. He was in his forties with slicked back hair under a motorcycle helmet, and a thick mustache and strip of hair running down his chin. The man grunted in pain and tried to pull a gun from his belt.

"Don't," Xander said simply, pointing the gun at the fallen biker. The man didn't bother listening, and Xander shot once more, hitting the man in the left eye.

Turning, Xander saw that the police had come, sirens filling the air. An ambulance screeched to a halt as well, and he saw a rush of people in uniforms. He dropped his guns and walked towards them slowly.

xxx

Outside Picacho, Arizona

Sipping intensely on his straw, Amadeus pulled in more of the thick strawberry shake and swallowed down his bite of cheeseburger. He had already downed one, and was working his way quickly through another. Feeling rustling in his coat, the boy broke off some of the large and juicy meat patty and stuck it inside his jacket, feeling as the coyote puppy found it.

"Hey kid," a feminine voice called out from in front of him.

Amadeus looked up and noticed the young waitress that had taken his order come to a stop in front of his booth.

The waitress put her hands on her hips, looking intentionally confrontational. "No dogs allowed."

"Oh yeah," Amadeus said, looking down. He pulled a couple of wrinkled up bills from his pocket and dropped them on the table. "I'll take him out-"

"Hey wait a minute," the waitress broke in, examining the animal more closely as it peeked out between the zipper of Amadeus' coat. "Is that a coyote pup?

Amadeus looked up at her innocently. "No, no. It's a dog. My dog. His name's Kirby."

The waitress ignored him, and turned towards the counter on the side of the diner. "Bob, this kid's got a coyote in his jacket."

"You're kidding me," Bob said, turning around on his stool to face the waitress. He stood up, straightening out his black policeman's uniform.

"No, I said it's a dog," Amadeus interjected, words just pouring out of his mouth as his brain started to work overtime. "A German Shepherd/malamute hybrid. Besides, dogs, coyotes, and wolves are genetically indistinguishable, capable of interbreeding and producing fertile-"

The police officer leaned on the table and stared at the teenager. "Kid, this isn't funny. We got a rabies alert on Tuesday."

"-offspring," Amadeus continued, knowing that it wasn't having an effect. He started to think. "That makes them technically the same species, so there's really no reason to-"

The officer interrupted again. "Now put him down."

"Put him down," another man put in, from another table.

Amadeus said nothing, but started to look around. He picked up his glass of water and sucked on the straw.

"Don't be stupid," the newcomer continued, though he had yet to rise from his own seat.

Amadeus put the glass down next to his shake, but kept the straw in his mouth. He looked at the cop intently. "I'm not stupid."

"All right then." The police officer leaned forward more, hand outstretched to take the pup.

Amadeus reached into his coat pocket and pressed the button on his walkman, working the volume wheel. No sound came out of the device, instead the sound was shunted to the speakers of the TV set above the counter, and it came out loud. Surprised, the people in the restaurant made to cover their ears.

Amadeus was not surprised, having modified the walkman to play through the closest speakers available. It had been a project to turn his dinky old walkman into a stereo system. Standing up, Amadeus concentrated. Arcane and complex formulas floated in his vision in neon red, blue circles appearing afterwards, connected by lines that indicated point of impact and reaction paths.

Spitting as hard as he could, a lemon seed was expelled from the straw and hit the policeman just above the eye. Amadeus leapt onto the table as the man shifted, grasping a pepper shaker and waving it towards them to drive them back more. Taking advantage of the situation, he rushed out the door and hurried to his scooter, hearing the officer and the waitress trying to reorient themselves after the loud sound, pepper, and seed. They would start to chase after him soon.

With a gentle rumble, the scooter started up, and Amadeus made his way out of the parking lot, stopping only long enough to drive a palmed steak knife into the valve of one of the tires on the officer's cruiser.

xxx

Charming, California

"That was some shooting," Jax said, standing on the curb and looking out over the mayhem that the birthday party had turned into. The police were taking statements, and a few people were still being patched up. The more grievous cases were already on their way to the hospital.

Sitting on the curb, Xander didn't bother to look up at the man. He smiled a little as he noticed the brunette he had been talking to fuss over her daughter. Her husband was there as well, though he looked tense, and glanced over at Clay a few times. "Yeah."

"Do you know what that was about?" Xander asked, craning his head and looking up.

Jax shrugged, frowning a little. "There's been a few problems with clubs around here. Nothing this bad before though."

It was intentionally vague, and if he had to admit it, the VP of SAMCRO had to admit that it had shaken him. Charming was protected, and the idea that it could be attacked by another club in so public a manner was almost inconceivable. It was just proof as to how desperate their gang war had made the Mayans. Still, blood spilled on the streets of Charming was blood spilled on the streets of Charming. And though it had been the Mayans that had fired the shots, SAMCRO had started the war.

Xander noticed a short man in his fifties talking to Clay. He was wearing the uniform of a local cop, and from the looks of it, was probably pretty senior in the department. "I have a lawyer."

"What?" Jax said, looking down again.

Xander shrugged, and looked down at his hands. They were still dirty, specks of dried blood on the backs of them. "Just…someone I know."

"Yeah," Jax said distractedly, looking up at Unser. "I don't think it'll come to that. Just keep your mouth shut. It was self defense."

"It's not supposed to be easy," Xander muttered, not knowing if he was talking about himself or the bikers. He watched as techs took photographs and collected evidence. It seemed so clinical now.

"What do you mean," Jax asked.

Xander didn't say anything for a few moments, still looking at the street. "Needed doing I suppose. But, is this the way of things?"

The Wild West on the streets of Charming wasn't what he wanted, nor the public attention. The innocent people caught up in the fight were what bothered him the most. Still, better this than the alternative.

"Yeah, I suppose so," Jax said in agreement, wondering what Xander meant. There were no answers forthcoming and he noticed the chief head in their direction. "Still, you did good."

Jax stepped off the curb and walked into the street, passing by the chief as he headed towards Xander.

"Did I now," Xander said nearly silently, watching Jax depart. The reaper on the man's jacket smiled at him craftily. He furrowed his eyebrows as he wondered just what it was that the Sons of Anarchy were into. He doubted that the Mayans had just decided to attack a birthday party.

"Xander," the police officer said, looking down at the rather young man sitting on the sidewalk. It was a little jarring considering the picture that had been painted by the other witnesses. The teenager had killed more than his share of bikers, but had also risked his own life to bring the Winstons' daughter to safety. "I'm Chief Unser. I just need to ask a few questions."

Nodding, Xander stood up.

xxx

Near Mt. Huà Shān, China

Slamming against the rock wall of the mountain, Temugin rebounded onto the ground. Standing, more defiant than anything, the bald warrior stared at the monster that was in front of him. He was bloody, his robe ripped in multiple places, and slashes marred his chest. The demon was in similar shape, one of its eyes nearly ripped out and deep wounds in its sides where Temugin had punched it.

Gathering his chi, the man rushed forward and leapt in attack once again. He snapped his leg around, and kicked out. The demon, tiring from battle and its wounds, was not fast enough to deflect the attack. Temugin's booted foot impacted against the beast's head, snapping it around with an audible crack. With a shaky roar, the demon fell to the ground with a thud, its neck broken.

Temugin landed lightly upon his feet, staring down at the fallen animal. He heard the scrambling of feet on rock as the monk approached him. The beast just lay bleeding on the stone ground, still as fearsome looking as when it had been alive. It had been a great battle, and the opponent had had both physical skill as well as the intellect of a survivor. There was no wonder how the thing had survived into the present day. Looking over to the monk, Temugin spoke, "give me your cell phone."

The monk nodded, reaching into a hidden pocket and extracting a small silver phone. He handed it to the victorious warrior. "A glorious triumph, Master."

Temugin just nodded as he took the cell phone. He dialed quickly, and put the phone to his ear. It wasn't long before the call was picked up. "Hello, Father. The yāoguài has been defeated. I will have it carried down to your laboratory shortly."

The warrior said nothing for a while, listening to his father's instructions. There was no praise, nor did he expect any. "Yes. It will be done."

Without a goodbye, Temugin ended the call and tossed the cell phone back to the monk. He looked down at the beast again, though he spoke towards the other man. The ichor of the beast was spreading on the grey rock surface, staining it black. "Call the others; the body needs to be moved as soon as possible."

The monk did as he was instructed, leaving his master in contemplation.

Temugin knelt down and stared at the beast's face. There were not many of the creatures left. Technically, they were demons, pure demons, without contamination from other species of beast. Not sapient perhaps, but the yāoguài were fearsome opponents. They had appeared on the Earth long before the rise of humanity, and had remained in their original pristine state, their bodies full of arcane power. To their detriment and likely extinction. Still, a noble battle, and all the more glorious for the scarcity of the prey.

Standing, Temugin turned and looked out over the mountains, the sun bright in the sky and revealing the large range of mountains in front of him. Peaks descended into the cloud layer, and despite his sharps eyes, Temugin could not see the fullness of it. China had fallen into such disarray from its once glorious time as an empire ruled by the strong. Decadence and internal corruption, as well as outside forces, had caused its downfall. Such forces were still at work in his beloved country, forcing it to open up to the West. But, with his and his father's efforts, the empire would rise again. The blood of the demon would be used by his father's scientists to create an army so powerful that none would dare challenge their might.

The Mandarin would rise up and carry the Jade Empire to heights that had been known only in the days of old.

xxx

Charming, California

"Jesus," Clay said, watching as the body bag that carried the last body was placed into a truck. The street was still a mess, with abandoned motorcycles strewn about. The SUV was still wrapped around the telephone pole, though the bodies had been removed. He looked over at his Sergeant-at-Arms as he continued. "That's Álvarez. The Mayans are over."

Nodding, Tig looked over at the kid that was currently talking to the chief of police. Unser was in their pocket so there were no worries that any of the Sons would get into any trouble with law enforcement over the incident. It would show up on the news for a cycle or so, but it would quickly be forgotten. That it had occurred in Charming was cause for some alarm, but with the Mayans effectively gutted, it would send a message to the Nords and any other clubs that might have eyes for Charming that trying to hit them on their own soil would be a deadly and costly mistake.

That it had been a kid only tangentially related to the MC would be washed over, the important thing being that SAMCRO would smite down any that would seek to question their authority. Still, the fact that some random kid had done such an impressive job of dealing out a whole lot of death raised some questions, even if it was the nephew of one of the First 9. "Who the fuck is he?"


	2. Chapter One: Somebody's Going to Emergen

**Chapter One: Somebody's Going to Emergency, Somebody's Going to Jail**

"I have school on Monday," Xander said, sitting down on an old steel chair. The pleather seat and back were cracked and the round wooden table that he was sitting behind looked to be stained with any number of fluids, most he knew that he wouldn't want to know the origin of. He looked across the cinder block and wood paneled room, at the shiny brass stripper pole that was in front of an old piano. Fun times had by all no doubt.

It was almost amusing.

He remembered his uncle from his childhood, not many memories from not spending too much time with him, but he remembered that he had been rather rambunctious. In addition to telling fantastical stories, some of which he suspected were probably true now. Not the one about Velcro, but some of the others. There were large sections left out though, hidden behind what must be a mask of nonsense and embarrassing humor, most likely for his benefit. But, there were now things he remembered that his uncle had never talked about, things that were more apparent through his eyes now than through the eyes of his childhood. He didn't know if what was going on was tied to the estrangement between his father and his uncle, but he imagined that it was a possibility.

"Unser will get things cleared up, get the paperwork pushed through." Jax was sitting across the table, taking the lead. He was taking the cue from the president of the club, who most likely thought that it'd be better coming from somebody closer in age. Though, somebody that was more put together than their rather thick-headed intelligence officer who was more comfortable with guns and computers than people, or their new prospect, the now one-testicled young man somewhat lovingly referred to as Half-Sack. "You might be able to leave today, or maybe tomorrow at the latest."

"Thanks," Xander said, looking back at Jax. A few others were in the clubhouse as well, though some had gone their separate way. Most to the garage that was in the same lot as the clubhouse, some of the others to try to find out what had happened and what it all meant. The man in the corner, behind the bar, had been glancing over at them a couple of times. He was slightly antsy, some of which had to do with what had gone down most likely, but part of it was likely to be natural. From what he had been told, the man had been a marine, and from the look in his eye, he probably served a similar function in the gang that was the Sons of Anarchy. "So what happened?"

Jax shrugged, deflecting. "Charming's got a lot of blue collar folk, that's always been a strong market for drugs, sex, anything that can turn a profit. We try to keep that out of Charming, keep the violence out, sometimes the pushers don't like that so much."

Xander just smiled a little. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to buy that. "You have to have been pushing pretty hard to get them to come after you all like that. Must have been pretty desperate to get at you."

"Yeah, well, we've had to be less than polite at times," Jax remarked, looking altogether too clean to be the hardcore biker that he was, scruffiness notwithstanding. That was one of the other reasons why Clay had had him figure out what to do with the kid. "Law can't do anything until after they move in. They gotta catch them in the act. And we don't want it to come to that. Charming's home. We take care of business."

"I bet," Xander looked over his shoulder at a section of wall that had been plastered with black and white photos of club members. He recognized a good number of them from the party. A number of the photos used were booking shots from the local police department, including one of Jax. "What are you really into?"

"What are you talking about," Jax challenged, looking at the teenager a little more closely. There were a number of things to be suspicious of. It wasn't that he was some undercover cop or anything, he was the nephew of one of their own after all, but the way he had acted during the attack, it wasn't his first time being under fire.

"The Mayans. They had a thing going with the Nords," Xander stated flatly, keeping as little emotion in his voice as possible. He turned back around and examined Jax more closely, though he also kept Tig in his view as well. Both men were a little more cautious now. He leaned in closer, making sure that the Sergeant-at-Arms couldn't hear them. "I have a friend in Phoenix. There was an attack on a meth lab there a while back. Nords and another biker gang got hit pretty hard. Got worse for the Nords when they messed with the Hellions. He filled me in on all sorts of things. The months during the summer had some gang war going on. Mayans were a part of that. Whole mess of violence."

"Nords ain't a club, technically," Jax corrected, wondering how much Xander knew about SAMCRO and their connection to what had sparked it all off. The news had reported most of the details of the gang war, but that had mostly been localized to where the skirmishes had taken place. The gang, on the other hand, knew about what had happened for other reasons and through other means. "We started pushing hard on the Mayans to keep them away from Charming after they started their beef with what was left with the Nords. They got desperate after that."

Xander said nothing, looking over at the club's logo on the back wall of the bar. "Yeah, I bet they did. Your man Tig, he's your trigger puller?"

Jax just shrugged, noncommittal. "We do what we have to, the law doesn't always help, like I said. Your friend tell you that it was a vigilante that started that shit in Phoenix? We all do what we gotta to protect our homes."

"Yeah, something like that," Xander said, turning back to the biker. It was ironic he supposed, since he had been one of the vigilantes in Phoenix. He was partly to blame for the whole mess he supposed, though at some point, it was based on what people decided to do, not just what they were pushed to do. "Why do I get the feeling that if the ATF were to run checks on the guns you used, they wouldn't exactly check out to any carry permits you may or may not have."

"Carry permits are under the jurisdiction of the local chief actually. And I'm sure that he's glad that things worked out how they did. Could have been a hell of a lot worse." Though Jax knew that Xander wasn't likely to be squeaky clean under the eyes of the law either. He was entirely too familiar with a gun to just be some civilian. And his ability to coldly shoot a man lying in front of him was altogether too hard for someone that's never done it before. "And you're not going to do that."

It wasn't even that Xander had something over the club. It was that he could get the eyes of the law to start asking the wrong, or rather the right, questions.

Xander sniffed once. He supposed he could understand Jax's point. Of course, there were a number of people that were beyond caring. "Cause you say so?"

Jax just stared at him. Neither the Men of Mayhem nor the VP patch on his cut were there for nothing. And he'd do anything to protect the club.

xxx

"What do you know about the Excello Soap Company," Director Fury said, settling down on the chair in the dining room of Tony Stark's mansion. There was an extraordinary view of the coast in front of him, but he ignored it. There was a file folder on the table as well, but it didn't have much in it. He'd give it to Tony to review, but it wasn't like the businessman would be able to do much with it personally.

"Besides the fact that they make soap?" Tony asked, a grin on his face. He wasn't surprised that Nick didn't respond in kind. Iron Man, despite how helpful it was for Nick's program, not to mention the ancillary support that Stark Industries was providing, was also causing a lot of issues for the agency director. "They sponsor an Internet quiz show every year. A lot of publicity for them, I suppose. That's about it."

"Brain Fight," Nick confirmed. "Anyway, that's pretty much all we have too. And a little more."

"Why, what's your interest?" Tony asked, slightly perplexed. "I don't exactly follow online IQ contests. Don't see the point myself."

Arrogance, thy name was Tony Stark. Even now, but Nick figured that that was one of the reasons why Tony was so successful. The genius engineer couldn't imagine himself not succeeding. "A few weeks ago the home of the latest winner was attacked. It was blown up, taking the lives of his parents and sister in the blast. It got flagged by us because of a molecular fingerprint on the explosives, and an agent started to do some digging."

"What did he find?" Tony said, turning serious, or at least as serious as he could become.

"We started backtracking through the winners for the last ten years," Nick explained, flipping open the file folder and taking out a list. He turned it around and passed it over to Tony. "Then longer. Every winner of Brain Fight has either been killed or disappeared."

Tony frowned as he read through the list. He vaguely recognized a few of the names. Stark Industries did its share of publicity work, and given their high tech bent, they had offered a number of scholarships and sponsored events aimed at promoting science and the value of education. "Why?"

Nick just shook his head. "We don't know yet. And we have SHIELD agents combing through Excello's back history. But, it's been slow going and they look clean. And trying to link that to dozens of deaths is slow going."

"You think it's them?" Tony asked, looking back up at the director.

"We don't know that either," Nick replied, frustrated, though he didn't show it. That it had apparently been going on so long also ate at him. But, the causes of death and the disappearances had been varied enough to not have caused anyone to suspect a connection until now. "It could be linked to Excello, or whomever is behind it could be using the quiz results to target his prey."

"What do you want me to do?" Tony asked, looking back over the list. It was disturbingly long; the last name was a Korean boy, all of fifteen years old. He could have been taken, though it was suspected that he had somehow escaped the attack and was currently on the run.

"Run the list through JARVIS, see if it can find any links between the victims that we haven't found," the director stated. "I've been authorized to allow JARVIS to access governmental databases to speed the search."

Tony's eyes widened a little in shock. That type of governmental access was unheard of for a private company. It was also a massive invasion of privacy, and could potentially establish a dangerous precedent. "That's a little drastic."

"For the last thirty years there has been a systematic and targeted attack on certain individuals in the United States," Director Fury explained. Combing through years of history on multiple databases through the local, state, and federal databases was difficult and slow. And that was only running searches; actual analysis would take SHIELD agents much too long. It wasn't what he would have preferred, but he understood the need for it. "That's more than your garden variety murder. That's terrorism aimed at depriving this country of its best and brightest minds. We need to know why this is happening and who's behind it. And we need to figure it out now. So yeah, it is drastic, but it's also warranted and I can supply you with the authorization if you're squeamish about it. It's a one-time deal. I assure you."

"Alright," Tony said, nodding. Although he still had significant reservations about the policy decision. He couldn't let the boy die though. "Let's get to work."

xxx

"So homecoming's coming up," Willow said, smiling a little as she watched Kendra working out with Giles. The upcoming dance was making her a little giddy. She didn't have much experience with dating, and having a popular, or at least respected, boyfriend made her feel more like a part of the school community. It made her feel at least a little normal. She looked over to Buffy, who was sitting next to her and was wiping herself off with a towel. "Are you excited?"

Buffy said nothing, instead staring at a poster that was pinned to a bulletin board on the wall. It proclaimed Cordelia as the choice to vote for for Homecoming Queen. The lead cheerleader was starting early in her campaigning. Back in Hemery, that would have been her.

"Buffy?" Willow asked again.

Shaking herself out of it, the Slayer looked at her friend. She smiled a little. "Sorry, Scott's taking me. He's going all out, it'll be fun. We should go together."

"Cordelia's going to win," Willow said, knowing what Buffy was thinking. "But, if there was a slaying portion to the vote, you'd totally win that."

"Thanks, Will," Buffy said, a little saddened. Her life was what it was, with all the bad that came with it. Of course, that didn't mean there wasn't any good. "But, she can have it. I'm happy with the slaying, and the boyfriend and the new shoes I'm going to have to buy for the dance."

Willow smiled, at least Buffy was keeping things into perspective. And wasn't at all complaining about being at school on a Saturday.

"Speaking of dances," Buffy said, looking over at the other redhead at the table who was quietly doing her homework. "Are you going to go to the dance?"

Vi looked up, setting down her pencil. "Yeah, Xander's taking me. And Kendra actually, but just as friends."

"Oh," Buffy asked, staring innocently at the potential. "What does his girlfriend think about that?"

Vi just met her stare, not buying it for a minute. She knew that Buffy and Willow were still trying to figure it out. Curiosity on their part was becoming an itch that they couldn't scratch, and the fact that she knew, but they didn't, was probably driving them a little crazy. Xander had noted that it was something normal in their lives, gossiping about relationships, and so they had clung to it a little harder than normal. She could sympathize with that. "I'm sure she's fine with it."

"So how come you get to know, but we don't?" Willow asked, turning her attention to Vi. She had been hurt that Xander would have let Vi know, but wouldn't have told her.

Vi could see that Willow was still on that point. She felt for the other girl, but it wasn't that Xander had told her about it. And though she felt that Xander should have told his friends something more, she also understood why he didn't. "It wasn't like that. We sort of found out, so it isn't that Xander trusts us more or likes us more or anything. It's just something that worked out that way."

"Fine," Buffy said, still a little unhappy about the situation. Although, if she had to be honest with herself, she was getting a little carried away in the hunt. But, it was that high school stuff that she liked so much to provide a counterpoint to her slaying. She certainly couldn't blame it on Vi though. "We'll find out when Xander's ready I guess."

xxx

"You protect this town," Xander said, looking Jax in the eye. There had been a picture on the wall near the bar when he had walked in, his uncle in a leather vest standing next to a motorcycle and looking remarkably younger. And happier. He had been with a couple of the others that he had seen, along with six other people. The First 9 according to the black marker used on the picture. Nomad bikers that had found a home, one that they weren't likely to want to give up without a fight.

Jax nodded, still serious. "Yeah, and I get the feeling you understand what that means."

"I suppose I do," Xander said, looking away for a moment. More than that actually; he had crossed some lines himself. Both in Sunnydale and in K'un-L'un. He wasn't exactly one to judge, especially considering that there was a whole side to his uncle he was barely beginning to get. There was just too much he didn't know. And Charming wasn't his home. "So where's that leave us?"

"This whole thing is going to go away," Jax replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Most of the Mayans that hit us are dead, the rest aren't going anywhere for a while. And you killed the head of the MC. And we got his son, so yeah, they aren't going to come back on us or you. Neither are any of the other gangs. And you're just going to walk away. Forget what happened. There's really no reason why you need to get involved anymore."

"That woman," Xander said, looking Jax in the eye. "Donna, her kid could have been killed because of what happened. Because the Mayans decided to come at you here and now. You keep them out, and you push back on them. But, they come here, because of something you guys started with them. And you're protecting this town. I don't know. You so sure of that?"

Jax didn't say anything. He had to admit that what Xander was circling around was something that he had been thinking about. Ever since his ex-wife had gotten pregnant he had had some doubts about the direction of the club. The gunrunning and other businesses that Clay had brought the club into wasn't what he remembered it being as a kid.

"We do what we have to," Jax said bluntly, his brows furrowed. "Have you ever loved something so much you'd do anything to protect it? No matter how much damage it did to you."

"Yes," Xander answered, with no hesitation. "I've…done my own share of damage. To protect things, people; it was necessary. I get your point, but I try not to go looking for a fight. Way I've found it, there's more than enough fight that comes looking for any of us."

Xander sighed, wondering just what the Sons of Anarchy were into. They were generally decent folk as far as he could tell, but there were always sides. And even the friendliest people could have their darker halves. "You protect this town. I respect that. Hell, with what I've seen, they come at you and I want to pick up a gun and be right there with you. Cops weren't exactly helpful, and I know that tune. They try, but like you said, they gotta see it to do anything. And that's when they want to. Still, innocent people got in the way, and too many of them died because of it. Do what you have to, but I wouldn't want to go looking for a fight. Whatever you do, I don't know, is it worth it? Is it worth it for the heat you bring onto this town?"

Jax nodded hesitantly. He knew that Xander wouldn't say anything about what happened. Still, there was something to what the boy had said that struck him. He wondered if his father, also one of the First 9, had wanted it this way.

xxx

The teenager ran through the bushes in a panic. Night had fallen hours ago, but the moon was large and bright, so he didn't trip on any exposed roots. It didn't tell him much about where he was going though. All he knew was that he had to keep running.

He had to keep himself from looking over his shoulder as it chased him, as he heard the growling and heavy breath of what could only be described as a monster. It had been some time since he had first been attacked, and his cheek stung from the clawing that had ripped it open. He could hear it coming closer and urged his aching and burning body forward.

The boy had no idea why it was happening, cursing himself for stopping at the coffee shop during nightfall and choosing to walk home. He was in the woods, and knew that it was near the park where the school was near, but he had lost his bearings. All the better for the beast.

Just as he was about to turn, his foot caught a loose patch of leaves and dirt and he stumbled, falling to the ground. He broke his fall and tried to get back to his feet quickly, but it was too late. He could see the figure approach him, the gnarled skin and bright teeth evident in the moonlight. He tried to back away, pushing himself away with his feet, but it wasn't enough.

The beast was upon him, and all that he could do was scream. And then he couldn't even do that.

xxx

The Mandarin sniffed the air lightly, displeased at the odors of ozone and bio-metallic fluids that wafted through the air. He walked quietly through the room, noting that his scientists all turned from their work to pay their respects as they noticed his presence. They were stationed at computer screens and microscopes and other assorted instruments. Some of them were working on miscellaneous projects for his corporation, while others were working on projects for his true goals.

He walked further, into the personal lab that had been set up for Dr. Sterns. The air was heavier there, with the smell of lubricants and blood mixed into the other omnipresent odors. He walked closer to the project that was currently lying on a thick metal table. Blood and other liquids stained its surface, and the creature on it looked to be some twisted amalgamation of flesh and metal. It hardly looked human with its overly large head and cybernetic limbs.

"How is the project coming," the Mandarin said, as the green-skinned scientist turned around. He continued to look at the creature, noting the thickness of its muscles and the strength that was implied by its servos. The mechanics were not fully installed and only parts had been added, but what the finished project would be would most surely be a powerful weapon.

"Ah yes, your eminence," Dr. Sterns said, bowing a little sarcastically. He looked over at his current work, the melding of years of his own research as well as the development of work done by a number of others. He had advanced it all in a number of months, his gamma-enhanced intellect working to produce the perfect killer. That was its only purpose. A mobile organism designed only for killing. "It has gone very well. The government files your men have acquired regarding bonding cybernetics to biological matter, though still in development stages, have proven to be quite fruitful. And I hope that their enhancements have proven to be quite worth the expense."

The Mandarin said nothing for a while. He had allowed Dr. Sterns to experiment on the private security force of one of his subsidiary companies. Roxxon's private military contractor division, Blackguard, had been combed through and a team had been assembled into Strikeforce X. Rudimentary cybernetics and limited gamma enhancements had gifted the twelve man team with superior strength, the keenest senses, the fastest reflexes, and healing factors that were almost on par with that of the Hulk. That they had been the sole survivors of a procedure that had claimed eighty of their original number meant that the process still had to be refined. Still, it was a good first step, and the demon's blood that had recently been obtained would only strengthen the next generation.

"How long until the project is online," the Mandarin asked, hearing footsteps behind him. He halfway turned, acknowledging the presence of Klein, the head of Strikeforce X, and signaled him to wait.

Dr. Sterns half-smiled, looking at one of his most successful projects. The bald man was heavily tanned and was well-muscled, a perfect specimen of humanity. An ancestor of M.O.D.O.K., they served their purpose well. The scientist looked back over at his employer. "Because I started from scratch, with cloned tissue, I have had to construct a brain. To program that will take some time, and even I don't dare to rush the process. You want a fully controlled gamma-enhanced warrior. I can't just stick a demon brain in the thing. Not if you want total control. It will take time before the imprinting is complete. At least six months, and no amount of complaining will change that."

The Mandarin nodded, ignoring the tone. Dr. Sterns was allowed his impudence given his importance to the work at hand, for now at least. While he did not like having other intellects destroyed, he had had no choice. Only a few that had been tested had the mental mettle as well as the potential disposition to be useful in his plans. And he had not wanted anybody else to be able to mold those minds and use them against him. A sacrifice, but a necessary one. "See that you keep me apprised of the situation, Sterns. We will need an army of these M.O.D.O.K.s before long."

"Very well," Dr. Sterns said, frowning as he watched the Mandarin leave with his super soldier.

xxx

Buffy frowned as Ms. Calendar filled them in on the news. Jeff Orkin's body had just been discovered in the woods, mauled pretty badly. From what the computer teacher could glean from the police files, it had been attributed to an animal attack. A particularly large and ferocious animal that had attacked him the night before, under the light of a near full moon.

"Well, it couldn't have been Oz," Willow stated after the computer teacher had finished bringing them up to speed. She looked over at her boyfriend, who was looking blank about it. She could tell that he was concerned though, it was something in the eyes. "I mean, I was with him the whole night. He didn't get out of his cage."

"So der might be another werewolf in Sunnydale," Kendra said, crossing her arms over her chest. She was still a little concerned over the Oz situation, but since he did take precautions and secluded himself during his transformations, in order to keep himself from attacking others, he did not have to be slain. It was still risky though.

"That may be the case," Giles commented, though he was also examining the photos that Ms. Calendar had managed to acquire, mentally reviewing what could have done such damage. "The photos do not necessarily confirm or disprove that hypothesis. We need to examine the body and check it for evidence to determine what manner of beast was responsible."

The Watcher looked up at the gathered group. If he had to be honest to himself, and despite the fact that Xander was not there, it had proven to be quite useful to have so many people of talent there. And whatever issues he may have had with some of them, and their independent streaks, it certainly made up for it in cases like this. "Buffy, I need you and Amy to break into the morgue. Examine the body and see if there was anything that could indicate what it was. Hair samples, or scales, or anything like that. They would keep samples there as well, so don't just check the body."

The Watcher looked over at the other Slayer. "Kendra, I want you to patrol the woods tonight near where the body was found. Work your way out. Make sure to bring silver with you, just in case. But, be careful, we don't know what it actually is. I don't want you to get surprised."

"What about us?" Faith asked, looking at Giles in almost a challenge. She felt like she was in the kid's section.

Giles just shook his head. "No, not for this one. We have no idea what this beast is, and so it's not worth the risk."

Faith was about to rebuke that notion rather rudely when Vi spoke up.

"You should bring Yong," Vi inserted, all eyes turning towards her. "If you want to track this thing down, Yong could be helpful. He's a dog and all that."

"Good idea," Giles stated, turning towards Willow. "I may not be able to watch Oz the whole night depending on how Kendra's patrol and Buffy's investigation turn out, so you would need be able to watch him again tonight in case I have to leave."

Willow nodded, reaching out and squeezing Oz's hand in reassurance.

"What about Xander?" Amy wondered aloud. She knew that he had gone to his uncle's party, and that he had stayed an extra night, but he was supposed to get back that day, since they had school the next day.

Giles shook his head. "I don't know when he is supposed to return today. I will call him after we finish and see if he can get back in time to support Kendra's search."

xxx

"The previous team killed the rest of his family, but failed to successfully terminate the boy," the Mandarin said, taking a seat in his chair. The man across from him was standing, arms held behind his back. He had been made to wait another few hours, but did not show any irritation. The man was a professional after all, and he served his leader without questioning. "The boy has since disappeared, but the current search efforts indicate that he is still in the country. Presumably still in the general location. It is believed that he is likely trying to find out who it was that tried to kill him."

"You should have sent my team and I, sir." The genetically enhanced warrior did not move, staring his employer in the eye. He was displeased at the failure, and was certain that the previous team had been recalled and dealt with. Likely as food or sport for some of the scientists' more lively projects.

"You were needed elsewhere, Klein," the Mandarin said, waving a hand in dismissal of the idea. It didn't matter at this point. What had happened happened and could not be changed. What did matter was what was learned from the experience and how the situation could be salvaged. Of course it had not been a mistake, it had simply been the truth of scarcity of resources. Klein and his men had been needed elsewhere. "However, you are now assigned to the task. Find Amadeus Cho, and terminate him. Make sure that nobody discovers who you are or why you are targeting him. Your flight will leave in one hour."

The Mandarin pushed a memory stick across his desk. Klein stepped forward and picked it up, putting it into one of the pouches that were strapped to his black and grey body armor. The Mandarin only nodded, the professionalism of the man in front of him had been well-noted, if only he had more of his kind. Unfortunately, they couldn't be cloned. That was what Dr. Sterns' latest work was about. "You're dismissed."

"Yes, sir," Klein said, turning around and walking away. He would have to prep his team and their equipment as well as brief them. There could be no mistakes made in the execution of their duty. His honor would not allow it.

xxx

Xander looked at the photograph that was on the wall. It was his uncle in uniform along with a number of other soldiers from his old division. The 25th Infantry, paratroopers, and they had gotten into all sorts of action over there. His uncle had never really talked about though.

He had noticed it the night before, but hadn't had much time to look at it before crashing on his Uncle's couch. He had the time now though, his aunt was preparing lunch at the present moment.

"You okay," a voice called out from behind him.

Xander turned around, looking at his uncle. It was probably just a trick of the light or something, but his uncle looked a lot less goofy than he remembered from the past. "Yeah."

Rory stepped closer, glancing at the photo that Xander had been examining. Of the men pictured, only half were still alive. A few had never made it back from Vietnam, and even some of the ones that had, had never truly left. It had been hard going, especially in light of the reception that many of them had received upon arriving home. It had been the impetus for the creation of the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club Redwood Original. It was freedom and rebellion against a society that had taken from them without appreciation for their sacrifice.

Frowning a little, Rory addressed Xander again, "let me look at you, boy."

He looked his nephew up and down and then drew him into an embrace. Xander was surprised for a moment, but hugged him back.

"I'm okay, Uncle Rory," Xander said, a little muffled as he tried to extricate himself from the hug. "Really, I'm fine."

Rory let go and examined him again, smiling softly a little. "Yeah, I guess you are. You did good."

"Yeah," Xander said, looking away for an instant. "I guess so."

Rory let it hang in the air for a moment. "We never got a parade."

"What?" Xander asked, focusing on his uncle once again.

"We never got a parade," Rory said again, as he looked once more at the photo. He had the rest of his assorted souvenirs and equipment locked away in a trunk in the attic. His old dress uniform was there, along with the medals that he had earned, and his old sidearm. "We did all sorts of shit in Vietnam, Laos…it got real bad in the A Shau Valley. We come home, and the people that we thought were behind us were there, protesting, calling us all sorts of crap. And the government sure as hell didn't want to remember how badly things had gotten, so we got ignored. We were angry…we were angry and we just wanted to not be under the lash of a government that didn't give a shit about what we had given. So we hit the road, started a club. Just drifting. Redwood Original, because we didn't have a home. We found Charming later, it was in pretty bad shape at the time, but we built it up from what it had been. Law and government didn't really play into it. It's there now, as much as that matters. Still, it's ours, and we protect it."

He stopped speaking and glanced over at his nephew. "I get the feeling that you get what I mean."

Xander nodded slowly. He could relate in a number of ways. His vigilante actions were illegal, and in that, he couldn't exactly blame the Sons. Life was imperfect, and people could find themselves doing all sorts of things that they wouldn't have thought they were willing to do, given the right reasons. "Yeah, I suppose I do."

"Clay's worried. He didn't want it to go down like that. But, he's glad that you were there." Rory shrugged, running a hand through his white hair. "It's a rough life. And there's always somebody out there that wants a piece of whatever you've built up."

"I already talked to Jax," Xander said, somewhat mollified that at least they were pushing in a relatively diplomatic fashion. They were hardcore bikers and all, but they weren't simple thugs. Would have been easier if they had been he supposed. "I ain't saying nothing. I won't cause a fuss, so you don't need to worry. But, I also don't want to hear about something happening because of whatever it is that you also do with that club of yours."

"This is our home," Rory said, in mild rebuke. "You think we want this shit to happen on our streets? We take care of our own, no matter what it takes."

"Yeah, yeah," Xander said, not knowing what else he could really say. Jax had made the same point the day before.

"Jax is a good kid," Rory continued. "But, I don't know if he truly gets it. Me, Piney, Clay, Jax's father John, we built this place to what it is now. To have put that much sweat and blood into it, we'd die before we lost it. This place is as much us as anything."

He could tell that the words were at least beginning to sink into his nephew. He looked Xander in the eye and smiled a little. Wasn't a happy one though. "How many times you kill before?"

Xander tried to keep his gaze, but had to look away. It wasn't exactly something that he should answer, but it was family. "As many times as necessary. More than I'd like."

"Sunnydale?" Rory asked, knowing what kind of things one could get into in that town. And knowing his character, he could only imagine that Xander would involve himself in that, if he had found out the truth.

"Dangerous place," Xander said, not exactly giving much detail. "Cops were basically useless, and now, it just seems like…"

"You have to protect it? No matter what it takes?" Rory asked, not needing to take the greatest leap in insight.

Xander shrugged, it was that and more. Like he had answered to Jax. "Close enough I guess."

His uncle was right. He had no great love for authority. In a general sense it was good that there was a fairly fair system in place, in that civics class sort of way. But, in Sunnydale, it basically meant nothing at all. The cops didn't know, didn't care, or didn't want to involve themselves in what was really going on. Which left it to people like Buffy and him and the rest to make things right in the town. And when that happened, things got all grey.

"How old are you," Rory asked quietly.

"Seventeen," Xander replied, not offended that his uncle didn't know his age. He knew that that wasn't exactly what he was asking either.

"Almost a man," Rory said, nodding his head in acknowledgment. "And men take care of business."

Xander nodded back, he hadn't been a kid for quite a while. "Yeah, I guess we do."

A moment passed between them, in some ways they were closer than Xander was with his own father. Such was the way of things; family was as much a matter of interaction as it was blood.

"We sell guns," Rory said after a little while, holding Xander's eye. "We sell guns to…well, it doesn't really matter who. I don't like it, hell I don't even know how we got to this point, but it's what we do. It's what we have to do. We sell to one side, to use against the other side. Let them wipe themselves out. Do what we can to make sure it doesn't spill over onto civilians. And make damn sure that it doesn't come back here."

"Why…why are you telling me that," Xander asked, a little shocked at the admittance. Nothing the Sons had done had seemed completely legitimate. The pressure from Jax and the lack of it from the chief of police was some indication that something was up. It was damning, and he hadn't suspected it was that far over the line. But, in his heart of hearts, he could understand why it went down like that.

Jesse had disappeared over a year and a half ago, and the police didn't do a damn thing. He knew what had happened, but either the cops suspected or didn't care, and in either case, barely went through the motions of trying to find out what happened. One of his oldest friends had been a write-off, a statistic in the ledger that was law and order in Sunnydale, and his parents were never going to get closure. It was enough to make him want to do anything and everything to keep from anybody else having to go through the same in his home.

"Because I think you understand," Rory said, looking away. John's death had hit him hard, and whatever the beginnings of the club, they had moved to something completely different under Clay's leadership. The success spoke for itself, but he had always wondered if this is what John Teller would have wanted for the MC. He would have wanted to protect Charming, protect their home, but the rest of it was another question.

"Yeah, I guess I do," Xander said, not liking that he did, but also knowing that he couldn't exactly change things at the moment. He wondered how conflicted Jax really was about how the club was run. "But, I don't know…some little kid in some other town gets caught in the crossfire because of something you sold…it would have just been like that Mayan attack. Some girl ends up with a bullet in the head. It's all the same."

"You're right," Rory admitted, almost immediately. Shame didn't really come into it, nor did guilt. It just was. "You absolutely are right. But, it also doesn't change a damn thing. There's no one else."

"I know," Xander said, wanting to scream at the injustice of it all. But, he had to deal with the here and now, and not the hypotheticals of what could be. The ends didn't justify the means, but it wasn't like he could think of a better solution as an outsider. He wasn't in the MC, and he sure as hell didn't want to be. It just was.

He thought about the girl he had saved, and her mother. There really wasn't a choice; he was leaving enough people in the potential crossfire. "Whatever's left of the Mayans. The Nords, hell I don't know what else is out there. You need to, you call me."

Rory nodded, glad that his nephew had at least learned that lesson. "I am proud of you, boy. I want you to know that."

Xander said nothing, but smiled grimly at the compliment.

xxx

"Our target is Amadeus Cho," Klein said, looking out at his men seated in rows in front of him. He used a laser pointer to indicate a picture of the teenager in question. It was a little grainy, taken and blown up from a file photo on the database of the school that the boy had gone to. Still, it was good enough for identification purposes. "He may only be fifteen, but he's already escaped from one attempt to kill him. He's also the seventh smartest person in the world, which means that he's smarter than you lot put together."

The eleven men seated in front of their commander just listened to the presentation without comment. They stared at the photo, despite the fact that they had been given a hard copy of the file already, burning it into their memories.

"Our orders are to find him, hunt him down, and terminate him." Klein paced back and forth a little as he talked, pointing out a few other key details that were pertinent to the operation. "Based on his test results, the eggheads believe that he has a hypermind. What that actually means is in the file. Furthermore, we believe that he is most likely in a semi-populated to populated area. Unfortunately, this means that not only can he can blend in, but we have to refrain from drawing attention to ourselves."

Klein stopped and looked at each man in turn. "Pack what you need, but make sure that you bring light battle armor and sidearms. Discretion will be the key."

He checked his watch, his men still saying nothing, though they took some notes on the mission parameters that had been laid out for them. "Wheels up in twenty minutes. You're dismissed."

The eleven men rose nearly as one, heading out the door of the briefing room without saying goodbye.

xxx

"You are very quiet," Kendra noted, watching as Yong sniffed the ground earnestly. They had been following the dog for some time now, the animal having caught an odd scent at the area that the boy's body had been found. Xander had not said much throughout their search, which was rather unlike him.

Xander shrugged, scanning the area around him. He had a flashlight with him, but the light of the moon was enough to keep them from needing it for the moment. They were almost out of the woods at any rate, and he could see a few streetlights through the gaps in the trees. "It's been a long day."

"Is something wrong?" Kendra asked, as she crossed through into the park that was behind the high school. She could make out a few of the buildings, but there was nothing suspicious that she could notice. She was scanning the area as well, utilizing her senses to detect anything out of the ordinary. So far there was nothing, not even a vampire was stalking the present area.

Xander looked back at her, smiling a little in denial. "It's nothing that I can't handle."

They walked a little further in silence, and Xander could tell that the Slayer was throwing concerned looks at his back every so often. He forced himself to ignore them. It wasn't long before they stopped, Yong pacing back and forth, sniffing the ground intently.

They were in the middle of the quad of the school now, and there was nobody there. Security lights were on in the corridors and hallways, and bathed the central area in a chemical yellow glow.

"This is where it ends?" Xander asked, looking down at the dog.

Yong whimpered a little and then nodded.

Xander knelt down and scratched the canine a couple of times on the head. There was nothing more that the dog could give them. "It's alright, you did good."

"What does this mean?" Kendra asked, looking around the grassy area at essentially nothing.

Xander stood and turned towards her. "There's so many people coming through this place, he might not be able to pick up the trail. Which means that it blends in with the other scents here."

"It's one of de students?" Kendra asked, her heart sinking a little. If that was the case, though there would be less potential possibilities to sort through, it meant that finding out which one it was would be very difficult.

Xander shrugged in basic agreement. "Or a teacher, or the janitor. Or the principal. Too many people come and go through here to know who it could be. Yong could probably sort it all out, but we can't exactly bring him to school."

"We should check in with Giles, see if de have had better luck," Kendra said after a few moments. She was disappointed, but there was nothing that could be done.

Xander nodded, yawning a little. It had been a long day, and he wanted to get to sleep. School would not be so pleasant in the morning. "Yeah, there's not much else we can do here."

xxx

"It could be anybody," Xander said, looking out over the quad from the second story of the school. It was their lunch break and the majority of students were out there, in the sun. It wasn't particularly cold, so they wanted to enjoy the warmth while it lasted. "Not a vampire, not a werewolf. But, he, she, it's here. Somewhere."

"Yeah," Oz said in concise agreement. He supposed that he was glad that it wasn't another werewolf, one that would likely not have known what he was doing. He had been lucky in that regard, he had not taken any lives during the times that he had transformed.

Xander rested his hands on the railing, leaning on them as he looked down. Buffy had to meet with the guidance counselor, a couple of her tardies having caught up to her. The principal had delighted in chewing her out, before sending her to see Mr. Platt. Willow was still reviewing what little they had found at the morgue, trying to match it up to anything that they could find in Giles' texts. He doubted that they'd find anything conclusive, given the lack of strong evidence towards anything in particular. A broken off fang in a wound would have been nice at this point. "I'm not seeing a thing."

Oz said nothing; it wasn't likely that the killer would be noticeable. They didn't even have a why yet, but he knew that when it came to the forces of evil and general badness, why didn't always come into it. He sniffed once and then looked over to his right, pulling his bag off of shoulder and unzipping it to pull a folder out of it. "Debbie."

Turning, Xander saw one of their classmates, a pretty blonde girl that was in his year. He didn't say anything, but noticed Oz approach and talk to her, class notes in hand.

"You okay?" Oz asked, noticing the not very faded black eye on his blonde classmate that had only been partially hidden by makeup. He handed her the notes to the class that she had missed, wondering exactly why it was she had been absent that day. Illness suddenly seemed like it might not have been the truth.

"What? Oh yeah," Debbie said, laughing it off. She took the notes, steadying her hands. "I'm such a klutz. I, um…"

"Fell down?" Oz offered, looking concerned. He didn't exactly buy it, but if that was what Debbie would offer, then there was little that he could do at the moment. "Hit your…eye?"

Xander said nothing, turning back around and looking out over the quad. He noticed Pete, Debbie's boyfriend, look up at them, or more specifically at Oz and his girlfriend. He didn't look particularly pleased, and it wasn't long before Pete's gaze shifted to him. They locked eyes for a moment, and then Pete turned on his heel and walked away.

"Hmm," Xander muttered to himself, glancing back over at the classmates next to him.

"Thanks," Debbie said, zipping up her backpack after she had deposited the notes inside. She put it back on her shoulders, backing away a few steps.

Oz reached out with a hand, stopping her. "Hey um, if you wanna talk…"

The girl shook her head. "Thanks again for the notes."

She walked off after that, Oz watching her leave, slightly bewildered at what had just happened. He shook his head a little in disappointment. "Yeah…"

Xander stepped next to him, glancing over at the boy that was a year older than him. It didn't mean all that much at the moment. "We should probably get to class."

"Yeah. I'll see you," Oz said, turning around and heading off to his next period.

Xander didn't say anything, watching Debbie round the corner on the corridor. He wasn't moving towards his own classroom. "Yeah."

He started walking forward, increasing his pace a little to catch up to his fellow classmate. He passed by a few other students, whiling away the time until the bell rang. "Debbie."

The girl turned around, looking at him questioningly. "Hey, Xander."

Xander looked around a little, observing that they were alone in the hall for the moment. He looked at the bruise that marred her face, and noticed the forced smile. "Dad or boyfriend?"

"What?" Debbie asked in confusion, the forced smile turned even more awkward. She moved her hand up self-consciously, brushing some more of her near shoulder-length hair over her face.

"Dad or boyfriend," Xander asked again, equally seriously. "You going to tell me you walked into a door? Or tripped down a flight of stairs? Door knob?"

"I…" Debbie began, eyes widening a little in fear and shame. She looked over his shoulder and noticed Buffy come up hurriedly.

"Xander," Buffy said loudly, rushing over towards her friend. She spared the other blonde girl a quick smile. Pulling him to the side, she spoke quietly to Xander, making sure that she wouldn't be overheard. "Mr. Platt was attacked."

"What?" Xander asked, glancing over at Debbie to make sure that she didn't bolt.

Buffy whispered again, this time a little faster, "I was on my way to meet him; he was in pretty bad shape when I found him. I think it was the same thing that killed Jeff."

"How's Mr. Platt?" Xander asked, glancing at Debbie again. He spoke a little louder. "Attacked? How's Mr. Platt?"

"I must have surprised whoever it was," Buffy explained, a little angry at herself for not being able to find out who had done it. "There was nobody in his office when I got there, but the window was open. Mr. Platt says that he was hit from behind, and then it was just flashes."

"How's he doing," Xander asked idly, looking Debbie in the eye. He noted her expression at his previous purposefully said statement.

"The nurse is taking care of him, and an ambulance is on the way," Buffy answered, frowning a little. There had been so much blood, she had thought that he would have been dead. "We need to-"

Xander wasn't listening at that point, instead turning to face Debbie. "Son of a bitch."

"No, he-" Debbie tried to make out, struggling a little.

Xander just shook his head and turned towards Buffy. "Take her to Giles. Make sure that she stays in the library. And stay with her."

"Xander, what?" Buffy asked, turning as Xander started moving towards the stairs. "But, class."

He didn't bother looking back to answer. "Please, just do it. I'll tell you later."

xxx

Klein stared at the computer screen in front of him. He and his team were in Phoenix, having taken a few rooms at a cheap motel on the outskirts of the city. It wasn't where Amadeus had fled to, but it made an effective base of operations for their hunt. The Mandarin had facilities that they could tap into in the city, and it was in the same rough vicinity of where the boy had last been seen. It was a logical place to hide in.

Tapping a few keys, Klein scanned the security dump, noting that though the intrusion had not been traced back to a specific source, the hacker that had compromised the computer system of the Excello Soap Company had done some systematic searching. He had to give the boy credit, Amadeus Cho was remarkably efficient and capable of covering his tracks. There would be little there to tie the company back to his employer of course, and little for Amadeus to work off of, but it did tell him some things.

Klein turned around and stood up. "Alright, listen up. We have something. Kid's been looking into the contest, tapping into some of the bait we left behind. He's going to be headed to Utah. We just need to get there first. So pack your bags."

The others all looked at him and then nodded. They stood up to gather their things. They did it quietly and efficiently. All of the men were professional after all. All were former military, mostly American, but a few from other countries. They had all signed up for the procedure for different reasons. Some wanted the money, others were in it for the killing.

Moving to gather and pack up his own equipment, Klein turned away from the men. The money wasn't a particular concern for him, and he could get enough killing in the direct action unit that he had been a part of when he had been in the CIA's Special Activities Division.

He was in it to be the best.

xxx

"Pete," Xander said, looking to his right as the teenager rounded the corner. It hadn't been difficult to get the drop on the other student. He just had to be at the right place first.

The teenager stopped up short, his fists clenched. He stared at the boy that was leaning against the corridor wall. The sun was behind the other student, masking the figure in shadow. "Xan…Xander?"

Xander pushed off and moved towards the center of the hallway, standing in front of Pete. He took a few steps forward, the absence of shadow revealing his face. "Platt's alive."

"What are you talking about?" Pete asked, his jaw set. He stared at Xander, wondering what he should do. A good part of him just wanted to ignore the other boy and move forward. Another part wanted him to just go through him.

Xander ignored the question. "You're probably wondering how I knew you'd be here."

Pete just sniffed, frowning a little. "This doesn't concern you. Get out of here."

"Can't do that," Xander said, shaking his head. "Wasn't hard. You were going to go after Oz, I just had to be here first. Jeff's dead, and Platt's alive, no thanks to you. And you're coming with me."

"Go to class," Pete nearly snarled. "This doesn't concern you."

Xander smiled a little and chuckled darkly. "You know, surprisingly I'd actually rather be in class. But, some things are more important. So you're coming with me. One way or another. You ain't touching Oz."

Of course, Oz didn't exactly need protection. At least, not in another few hours. But, Pete couldn't have known that.

"You don't understand," Pete growled, pacing back and forth in the hallway with barely concealed tension. He was almost at his boiling point; his face twisted and set in anger. "He shouldn't have been talking to her. He shouldn't have been putting the moves on her!"

Xander shook his head, still calm. "Oz isn't that man. And you need to calm down, right now. Or one of us is going to the hospital. And between you and me, I'm thinking it's going to be you."

"Wrong decision." Pete smiled malevolently, his muscles straining as if he was trying to force something to the surface. It didn't take long, and his skin turned mottled and thickened, veins popping out as his strength increased. It had gotten easier every time, and he didn't even need the formula anymore. And it felt better and better.

He leapt, more quickly than would have seemed humanly possible.

Xander ducked it, putting a foot up and falling back, thrusting Pete over his head and kicking off. He heard the now mutated teen slam against a wall while he got back to his feet and turned. "What the hell did you do?"

Pete just grinned, darkness lying beneath as he scrambled back up. "I've always been good at chemistry. Honors student, you know."

"So you turn yourself into Mr. Hyde," Xander spat out. He had to end this fast, before somebody got wind of it and got caught up in what was becoming an actual fight. He stepped forward, raising his arms. "Someone's already dead, and somebody's gone to the hospital. It's gone too far."

Pete leaped again, trying to hit the other boy. He hit nothing but air as Xander dodged to his left. He felt a quick, almost impossibly fast, blow explode into his solar plexus. It hurt, but he was beyond pain, rage and anger all that was driving him now.

Xander watched as Pete merely took the blow, grabbing onto his arm. Twisting, he broke the grab, and kicked out with his right leg, snapping out and hitting Pete in the chest. Rather amazingly, Pete flipped around, using the momentum to kick out as well, pushing Xander back into the wall of the hallway.

Pete landed lightly on his feet and moved forward again, arms outraised. He punched, feeling his hand strike against the rough surface of the wall, as Xander's head moved out of the way.

Xander could feel the vibrations as Pete's hand broke through the outer layer of the wall. Leaning back, he drove forward with his chi, not letting the short distance hinder the power behind the blow. A one inch punch, but Pete was thrown against the other wall, slamming hard.

It took Peter a moment to regain his feet after that hit, noticing or not feeling what most surely were cracked ribs. He shook it off though, and moved forward as best he could.

Xander strode forward as well, blocking a few more of Pete's wild blows, utilizing his superior skill to deflect the other student's brute force attacks. Punching from all angles, Xander laid precision strikes to the Pete's face and body. Like things unto iron, the hammer blows did their damage, ripping open skin and loosening teeth, blood trailing from the open wounds.

Seeing an opportunity, Xander grabbed onto Pete, running forward and slamming him up against the wall. He reached back, feeling his chi pull and focus into his clenched fist, his teeth equally clenched. It was almost enough to make it start to glow, and the power of the strike would send his fist clear through the boy's skull if he wanted. But, he stopped, remembering. "It's over. You're through."

Pete just coughed, blood spraying out onto Xander's shirt. He laughed though it did hurt to do so. "Look at you. You don't have a scratch on you. The cops are going to think it was you that did it. You got nothing on me. You stupid fuck."

Xander stared at the boy, wanting nothing more than to drive his fist into the wall, going through Pete's head in the process. He deserved it, it was righteous. Righteous anger. Righteous rage. But, he could almost see himself in those near black eyes of Pete's. "Look at you. Look at what you did to yourself."

"I had to," Pete growled, trying to twist his way free, but Xander was too strong. "She would have left me."

"And screw whoever gets in the way," Xander stated in disgust. "She's going to leave you. She has left you. One way or another. Look at you. You poisoned yourself."

"And what are you going to do?" Pete asked, laughing it off once again. "Call the police? You think jail can hold me?"

Xander merely nodded. "You poisoned yourself. With whatever chemical cocktail you invented, and with whatever thinking you've got that this was the way. That this is what she deserved."

Jabbing a hand forward, Xander slapped an open palm onto Pete's chest, sending his chi forth. But instead of a destructive kinetic blast, it circled around, pulling back into Xander's hand.

Pete gasped as he felt a tightening, feeling like something was being ripped from his body. He could felt himself being pulled forward, and weakening. His skin thinned out and smoothed. The power that he had artificially given himself pulled from his body. He could only grunt in the agony. "No!"

Xander snapped his hand back, a flash of green light exploding outward in a mist as the poison that Pete had saturated his body with was expelled. Dropping him, Xander looked down at the now normal looking boy at his feet. The Iron Fist had expelled the chemicals, but it couldn't remove all the poison in the other student's heart.

"What did you do?" Pete screamed, trying to draw upon his anger and strength again. It would not come, and he just felt empty inside. It wasn't there anymore.

"Welcome to the human race you son of a bitch." Xander knelt down close, looking at Pete's bloody face. For someone that had stared in the face of demonic evil, it was rather pathetic. "You don't get any excuses anymore."

Xander held up his hand, pulling his chi to it once more, the iron fist glowing into life. He shifted his fingers, the digits shaping into an arcane symbol. "You, are going away, for a very long time."

xxx

"So it was Pete the whole time?" Willow asked, looking down at her hands. It was hard to imagine, despite what her fellow student had done to himself, she hadn't expected that it had been entirely mundane. Scientific in nature, even.

There was no demon, but that which lay in the heart of man. Of course, the reality of the situation as never so poetic.

"Yeah," Xander said, looking at the others in the room. He was leaning against one of the bookcases on the bottom floor, the rest of the gang gathered haphazardly at the central table.

"You figured it out very quickly," Giles noted, looking at the young man. "Before anybody else was injured or killed. Good work."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't that hard to figure out once I saw Debbie," Xander said, watching as Jenny looked at him. He had explained the situation, theories really, but supported by what Debbie had said and implied to Buffy. He met her eye, but turned away quickly, but not fast enough to miss the computer teacher's grim expression. "It was written all over her face."

"What's going to happen to her?" Vi asked, noticing the restrained look on Xander's face, as if he was trying to keep something in.

Xander looked at her and smiled. "I called the hospital. Talked to Mr. Platt. He's going to talk to Debbie and her parents."

"Are you going to try to explain what happened to her? With Pete?" Buffy asked. From what she had gathered from Debbie's defensive statements, he had freaked out on her before, seeing him in what Xander had called his Mr. Hyde face.

Xander hesitated before shaking his head as he looked at his friend. "I think it's probably best if somebody else did that. Right now, I'm just the guy that beat the crap out of her boyfriend and got him locked up."

"So what, this guy's seventeen. He just gets sent to juvie or something?" Faith asked, from her place at the table. She frowned, thinking that it was too good for the teenage boy, after knocking his girlfriend around, killing somebody, and almost maiming another. "How's that supposed to work?

Xander shrugged. He didn't know exactly how it was going to work, but he had an idea that it would be more than that. "Well, he's going to confess. And, actua-"

"How'd you pull that off?" Amy broke in, though as her brain caught up, she figured it out.

Xander turned to the witch briefly, and smiled a little sadly. "I can be real persuasive."

"Juvie hall's too good for him," Faith stated, slumping in her seat.

Xander looked back to the potential, knowing a little of what she was likely feeling. "Well, he's a minor, but, murder, even crime of passion wise, which it wasn't, well, it's a big deal."

He had at picked up a few things from Lilah, mainly criticisms of what could happen to him if he ever got caught in his vigilantism. Having a lawyer on retainer did have its benefits, as well as its share of depressing moments. And disapprovals.

Faith scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Still too good for him. Too easy."

Xander didn't say anything for a moment, looking down at the carpet. "He'll probably be charged as an adult. Whatever Debbie might say, Pete's got a murder to his name, and a pretty vicious attack on the guidance counselor. He's going to a gladiator academy."

Punishment and rehabilitation. That was the purpose of jail, but if Xander had to be honest to himself, Pete probably wouldn't get out in a better condition than he would be going in. Whatever rage and anger he had, it'd probably just be amplified by whatever sentence he got.

He could have killed Pete. Punched through Pete's head, or snapped the neck, it wouldn't have been that difficult. It'd be like putting down a rabid dog, if he had to justify it to himself. And easy enough to justify to the authorities, as much as Sunnydale's finest ever cared. But, that wasn't what he was supposed to do. That wasn't what he was there for. But, for the life of him, he couldn't tell if things were better this way for those involved.

Xander turned back to Faith, speaking softly. "Nobody got out of this easy."

xxx

Chief Unser ignored his head, the pain a constant fact of his life now. Cancer had been part of his life for over a year now, and it was only getting worse. He stayed on for the term, planning on retiring when he could. Didn't make it much easier now though. He had cleaned up the necessary paperwork for the Mayan situation, though it had been rather light. Just notating that the weapons that the Sons had on them had all been legal. Hell, his conscience was actually fairly clean on this one, since it had actually been a righteous shoot. Clear self defense, even if that kid had been the one that had done so much of the killing.

That still pulled at him, but he set it aside, for his own benefit. The kid was family to the Sons, indirectly though it may be. Nephew to a founder, which carried a hell of a lot of weight. If there was any poking around in who exactly that kid was, it wouldn't be by him.

"Chief Unser," a pleasant female voice said, pulling him from his thoughts.

The short and balding police chief looked up, taking in the rather attractive woman in the severe business suit in front of him. Her intense red hair was tied in a conservative ponytail, and she exuded business. "Yes?"

"I'm Maria Hill, from the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division," Natasha said, displaying a fake agency badge to the police chief. She sat down in the chair across from the man, crossing her legs as she put the badge back into her pocket. She pulled out a piece of paper from the padfolio she was carrying, sliding it across the chief's desk. "I have authorization for a copy of the police report from the shooting that just took place a few days ago."

Chief Unser read through the authorization form, noting that it was all in place. He didn't begin to imagine why the federal government was worried about that particular shoot, but it likely had to do with some ATF gun thing, as it usually did. That the request, or rather order, wasn't coming directly from the ATF was a little surprising. But, as long as the right papers were there and signed, his hands were tied.

He looked up at the agent after he had finished reviewing it. "You didn't have to come all the way up here, Agent Hill. We could have just e-mailed it to you."

The faux-SHIELD agent just shrugged. There was a reason for that, but not one that she wanted to reveal to the only governmental official in the room. "I wanted to see the scene myself. It's more convenient this way. For both of us."

"Okay," Unser stated, setting the piece of paper onto his desk. "I'll have my deputy, Hale, pull the file together. There's not that much yet, we don't work that fast, but we'll give you what we have so far."

"Thank you for your cooperation," Natasha said, smiling friendlily at the police chief. It always paid to be polite.

xxx

Xander stared at the phone in his hand, sighing a little as he opened it up. He had gone back and forth on it, but figured that he should. He dialed the number, having to check it against the piece of paper that it had been written down on.

As he did so, he heard a car pull up into the driveway. Moving towards the window as he pushed the button to dial, Xander leaned forward, surprised that he recognized the car. As he put the phone to his ear, he saw Jenny, or rather Ms. Calendar, get out of the driver's seat. He frowned and was about to close the phone when he heard a voice on the other line.

"Hello?" the voice said, young and gruff. There was a hint of suspicion, likely due to the unknown phone number that had just shown up.

"Jax? It's Xander," Xander said, turning away from the window. He hesitated a little, but it was too late now. "You okay to talk?"

"Xander, hey," Jax said, a little surprised to hear from the boy so soon. He looked at the guys that were working on the engine of the car that they were putting back together, and walked towards the back of the garage. "Yeah. What's up?"

"Just wanted to make sure we were clear on that thing that happened," Xander said, making some small talk.

"Yeah," Jax replied, knowing that that wasn't all that Xander was calling about. "We're clear."

"Good, good. Uh," Xander said, moving towards the closed door of his room, he could hear the sound of voices coming from downstairs, but couldn't make out what was said. "My uncle told me some stuff. About the club, the First 9, kinda why they formed it. Stuff like that."

Jax shook his head to himself. He wondered exactly how open Rory had been with his nephew. Clay wouldn't like it, especially if too much was given away too soon. Family knew about how things were ran, his mother, for instance. But, it wasn't something freely told. "Yeah? What did he say?"

"What they wanted. How they felt that they were betrayed," Xander replied, trying to find the words. As well as making sure he wasn't too blatant, it was an open air phone call after all. "And he told me some other stuff too. I've been thinking about it for the last couple of days. I don't know, it's just, between the stuff that he said about their vision for the club, and what it is now…I'm not one of you. And I have no place in saying what you are, but is it what it's supposed to be? I mean, from what Uncle Rory said, it was social rebellion. Freedom. A Harley commune. It's just…has the Sons of Anarchy lost its way?"

Normally that would have deserved an insult delivered with a beat down, but Jax merely stared at the wall in front of him. He leaned a hand against it, flipping through a few of the pages of the calendar that had been tacked to it. He remembered that it was only a few months until his son was supposed to be born. He remembered his father, and how he had been around him and how he had changed when his younger brother died.

"Jax?" Xander asked, wondering if he had crossed a line.

Jax swallowed, letting the pages of the calendar fall one after the other. "I don't know."

xxx

Ms. Calendar wasn't exactly sure what she was doing there. She wasn't there to see Xander, that would just be ridiculous. But, a teacher making house calls wasn't exactly the way things were anymore. Too many kids crammed in one room and too many cutbacks. But, she couldn't just let it go.

The door opened slowly, creaking a little as it revealed a man in his forties with thinning tan hair that was going a little white. He looked at the woman at his door quizzically, but the expression changed quickly. "Can I help you with something?"

She could feel herself being ogled, Xander's father not exactly making it subtle. "I'm Jenny Calendar from Sunnydale High School, you must be Tony Harris."

Tony nodded. "Yeah."

"I was one of your son Xander's teachers last year," Jenny continued, frowning a little at the rather bland response. "And I was in the neighborhood, so I decided to stop by."

It sounded lame, and she had to keep herself from cringing.

"Yeah, what's he done?" Tony said with a sigh, shaking his head.

Jenny could detect the odor of cheap scotch, though ignored it. "Nothing, or rather, he was one of my best and most improved students last year. And we've been talking about his future. What he wants to do with his life."

"Is that right," Tony said, nodding a little sarcastically. "And what would that be?"

"Well, he's keeping his options open, but he wants to go college," Jenny replied, feeling antagonistic towards his rather blasé response to his son's future. She swallowed it though, knowing that it would do no good. She also noted that she hadn't been invited in, a sign of how unwanted she was, or how uncaring Xander's father was.

Tony shrugged dismissively. "We'll see."

"Anyway," Jenny started again, shifting in place a little. It could hardly be any more awkward. "I just wanted to stop by and let you know that he was a pleasure to have in class. He's a good…kid. And he tries, very hard. He's actually quite bright."

"Alright, thanks," Tony said flatly.

Jenny stood on the stoop, not knowing exactly what else to say. She spoke again, a little more firmly this time, "I just want you to know that Xander's a good kid. And he's maturing into a fine young man."

"Thanks," Tony said again, glancing behind him. "I have things I have to get back to, so…"

Jenny smiled a little, forced though it was. "Of course. Thank you for your time."

The door was shut, firmly, though not slammed.

xxx

Xander shook off the stray thoughts about what Jenny was doing at his house. He'd ask her later, or his father would no doubt bring it up. "Jax, I just…I like her."

Sighing, Xander bit his lip trying again. "Donna was nice, and her kids were just great."

"Yeah," Jax said in agreement. "They're good people."

"I just want you to know, I don't want anything to happen to them," Xander stated, a little more forcefully this time. "Anything does, and I get involved. I am involved."

"Yeah, I hear ya," Jax said, turning around to see the other guys looking at him with quizzical expressions. He waved them off, indicating that they should get back to work.

Jax wasn't exactly sure what to make of the teenager, if his brother had lived, the two would have been around the same age. And this certainly wasn't what he had been expecting, even from the nephew of one of SAMCRO's founders. Toughness could run in the family he guessed, though he knew that Rory was estranged from his younger brother, who hadn't been club material.

The biker touched his chest, over his heart. Of course, other things ran in the family too.

"And Jax," Xander said, knowing that he didn't have much more to say.

"Yeah?" Jax asked, dropping his other hand.

Xander sighed, knowing that he was just adding to the burden he already had. But, he couldn't exactly do otherwise. "If you do…something, I got your back."

Jax had to smile a little. It was ridiculous to hear a seventeen year old say that he would back up the VP of SAMCRO, but he had to remember that this was a seventeen year old that had shot the president of the Mayans off of his bike and had walked up and shot him in the head. "Yeah. I guess you would."

"I got to go," Xander said, glad that he was at least doing something about the situation. The idea that he could just walk away from a bunch of gang members selling guns didn't sit well with him, even if one was blood. This was something at least. "Thanks."

"Yeah," Jax said, shaking his head. It was a hell of a thing, to have come to this. But, with everything that had gone on, the Sons had come to a crossroads. Less enemies out there, meant that they had more options. And a part of him knew that it very well could be better for the club. And he would do anything to protect the club. "Bye."

xxx

"You wished to speak with me?" Richard Wilkins III asked politely, looking at himself in the mirror. His image was reflected back at him, staring into him as well. It looked foolish, but he knew that it was anything but.

"Your progress has been less than it should be," the image in the mirror said, looking and sounding exactly like the immortal mayor of Sunnydale. It smirked a little evilly though, in a manner different from that of the actual mayor. "I am displeased. Punishment may be needed."

"My attempts to acquire the necessary talent have proven fruitless so far," the mayor said, ignoring the image's sinister gaze. "However, I assure you that I will be back on schedule very soon. Our plans will come to fruition on time."

The image laughed a little, and then burst into flames, the background fading away, and the mirror image of Wilkins twisting and shaping itself into that of an armored and robed figure. It could never be mistaken for a human as its head was a black skull surrounded by fire. The flames burst up as the figure laughed aloud. "It seems that I will have to guide your hand more closely, Wilkins, if you are to receive the full power of the Dark Dimension. I will find you the "talent" that you need."

The mayor bowed, lowering his eyes before the demon in the mirror. "Thank you, Lord Dormammu. I will not fail you."

The lord of the Netherworlds simply scoffed at the statement. "See that you don't."

Without a goodbye, the mirror reverted back to a vision of the mayor, as if nothing supernatural had occurred at all.

The mayor simply looked at himself for a moment, before reaching down and picking up his toothbrush. He unscrewed the cap of a tube of toothpaste and squeezed out a healthy portion onto the bristles of the brush.

Hygiene was always important.


	3. Chapter Two: Homecoming

**Chapter Two: Homecoming**

"I like crumpets," Xander said, interrupting the new Watcher's rather long and boring introduction. Everyone in the room looked at him as he flipped through his textbook. He didn't need to look up to verify it, feeling the amusement and annoyance aimed at him.

Wesley just glared at the teenage boy that had interrupted. He had been briefed in depth, or at least as in depth as possible given the lack of information that Xander, or Giles for that matter, had stuck them with. Still, he would do his duty, that was why he was there after all. "As I was saying, training procedures have been updated quite a bit since your day. Much greater emphasis on field work. I have been well prepared for this assignment."

"Okay, Thomas' English muffins, but it's pretty much the same thing," Xander continued, speaking to nobody at all. Admittedly, he probably shouldn't be acting like an ass, but Wesley had immediately gotten on his case. Apparently the new Watcher had been under the impression that the Iron Fist was under the command of the Watchers' Council. Not to mention that Wesley had been droning on for the past twenty minutes.

Looking up, Xander merely smiled at the young and rather stuffy Englishman. He put down his book and pointed at the Watcher. "Hey, I'm on your side."

Vi snickered, but covered her mouth to keep anybody from noticing. Faith on the other hand laughed aloud, not exactly worried about propriety. Wesley merely glared at them as well, feeling his loss of control over the situation. While he did not have much training in regards to leading groups of people, he had been trained to deal with leading one. And one of the most important lessons he had learned was to maintain respect and authority of the Slayer as well as control of the situation. The Watcher led, and the Slayer followed, as had been the tradition for hundreds of years.

"Enough," Wesley stated loudly, in as confrontational a voice as possible. He pounded his fist on the table, a fraction of a second too late.

Xander just looked at the man and nodded. While he was willing to go with it a little longer, and did have to put up with the Watcher, Xander figured that he made his point. "Okay, sorry. You were saying?"

"Very well," Wesley stated stiffly, standing up straight and adjusting his burgundy tie. His dull gray suit didn't mesh all that well, but it made him the epitome of a proper English Watcher. "It's not all books and theory nowadays, and I can assure you all that I am well prepared for the rather unique circumstances that you have found yourselves in. I have, in fact, faced two vampires myself. Under controlled circumstances, of course."

Giles nearly rolled his eyes, but refrained. He uncrossed his arms instead. "Well, no danger finding those here."

"Vampires?" Wesley asked in confusion.

Xander merely shook his head and smiled to himself as he saw Giles get snippy with the new Watcher. He hadn't forgotten some of the issues he had had with Giles, but he had to admit that even Giles was better than the new Watcher that had just come into their lives. At the very least, at least Giles was man enough to know that he didn't know everything.

He felt a nudge to his ribs and turned to Vi, who directed him towards Wesley. Paying attention again, it seemed that Wesley had finished talking about himself and was now talking about an actual threat to the Hellmouth, as opposed to a threat to not dying from boredom.

"This demon, Lagos seeks the Glove of Myhnegon," Wesley said, actually gaining a bit of depth to his voice as he spoke. He looked around the room again, glad that he had everyone's full attention. "While no record of this glove's full power exists, we do know that it is highly dangerous and cannot be allowed to fall into Lagos' hands."

"Do you know where it is?" Buffy asked, glad that the Watcher had finally started to talk about something other than himself as well. She really didn't need to hear about him being head boy when he had been around their age.

"Yes," Wesley said with some smugness, looking over at the Slayer that was still technically under Giles charge. However, his orders from the Council had been quite clear that were Giles to shirk his duty, according to his expert judgment, he was authorized to take over Giles' responsibilities as Watcher to Buffy and Kendra as well as the potentials. "The glove is buried in a tomb here in Sunnydale. Thus, Lagos will be headed for the cemetery."

"Which one?" Amy asked, the name of the magical glove tickling at the back of her mind. It was familiar, but she had read so many books of late as part of her training that some of the details had started to blend together. The sheer number of magical weapons and artifacts that could spell the death for thousands of innocents was astounding. She honestly couldn't comprehend why people made so many of them.

"Excuse me?" Wesley asked, slightly rattled.

Giles stifled any emotion, and made sure he kept an even tone. He could not make the other Watcher seem too much of a buffoon. Whatever his personal feelings, both towards the man, as well as what he represented, the position of Watcher needed to be respected. "There are twelve cemeteries within the city limits."

"Oh," Wesley said, deflating a little. He looked around the library at the eyes that were still upon him, and realized that it was an opportunity for leadership. "Very well then. Ms. Dormer, Ms. Mayfield, Mr. Giles, please assist me in researching the whereabouts of the glove. Hopefully we should have something by sundown, which will allow Buffy and Kendra to hunt Lagos down and kill him, as well as recover the globe. If not, we will have to systematically search through these cemeteries until we find both."

Buffy just nodded blankly, not exactly relishing the thought of having to search through twelve cemeteries, even with their rather large group. Still, at least they didn't have to do that now. "In that case, we have time for shopping. Homecoming's coming up."

Xander watched in amusement as Buffy gathered the other girls together to go dress shopping. His amusement increased as Oz and Scott were dragged along to accompany the group. Despite their super strength, it seemed like they needed the two teenage boys to carry stuff.

"Xander?" Faith asked, not planning on going shopping herself, but the boy seemed altogether too amused at the situation.

"No," Xander sounded out, shaking his head. There was no way that even a gang of Slayers and potentials and one witch could drag him along. "I already got my suit. I'm set. But, you girls go have fun. I have other things I need to do."

The girls gathered their things to leave, as the Watchers got down to looking through their books. Ms. Calendar was on the school computer, searching the Internet for information on the glove as well. Before they could all leave, Xander took a hold of Vi's arm. He slipped his credit card into her hand as she looked at him in question. "Get yourself and Amy something nice. And make sure that Kendra's okay. Have fun."

Vi smiled at him. "Thanks, Xander."

Xander watched them leave, and then gathered his own things. He had his own sources to check. While he was about to exit the library, he heard a British voice call after him.

"Where are you going?" Wesley asked, looking at the rather mysterious and annoying young warrior's back.

Xander shrugged, looking over his shoulder. He hiked his shoulder bag higher onto his shoulder. "Have to talk to my lawyer."

xxx

"Hmm," Director Fury muttered to himself, looking at the alert that had just been sent to his computer. While JARVIS had not as of yet found anything else linking the list of victims that he had given Tony, the artificial intelligence had uncovered some rather intriguing information. Most importantly of which was a serious of anomalies and odd occurrences that seemed to be going in a specific direction. A direction that would end in an address from the Excello file. On top of that, JARVIS had picked up an odd series of flights from China that would have the final destination of Grand Junction, Colorado, which was only a few hours away from the same address. Hardly a common trip to make, and hardly a common coincidence.

Tapping the speakerphone on his desk phone, Nick dialed a memorized number with no hesitation. It wasn't long before it was picked up. "Clint, get your kit together. I have a mission for you."

"What's up?" Clint asked from the other side of the line. He turned off the TV and stood up, heading into his bedroom.

"We have a hit on Cho. There's a manufacturing facility outside Moab, Utah that's linked to Excello. In the desert. Looks like that is where the boy is going," Nick explained, as he skimmed over the rest of the information that was available.

"You want me to pick up the kid?" Clint asked, moving to his closet. He pulled a large bag out of it, moving over to a large safe that had been bolted to the floor. Twisting the dial, he unlocked the safe and started to pull out his personal weapons, laying them out on the bed.

Nick looked over at the phone. "Yes, but there might be somebody there to meet the both of you as well. We've had an anomalous flight coming out of China. Looks like it could be a twelve man team. Capture or kill. We've had some intel that Sterns might have taken refuge there, so they represent a real risk."

"Hmm," Clint said, stopping as he placed a handgun into his bag. "The rest of the team?"

"Tony is occupied, but Dr. Banner will meet you at the airport," Nick said. He had hoped to have the man calling himself Thor on board by now, but his requests to have international aid doubled had so far not gained any traction. At least he was able to keep some channel of communication open with Golmen. And the man had been gracious enough to leave it as an open invitation, though it was more likely for the man's own amusement than any serious attempt at joining up. Still, Nick supposed that for a god, time was relative. "I'm sending Agent Coulson and a backup team with you as well. You'll be in overall command."

Clint nodded to himself; there really wasn't anything else to it. While Tony and his armor would have been extremely helpful in walking into an unknown situation, the Hulk was no slouch either. And Agent Coulson and the rest of the SHIELD operatives may be rather stiff, but they were all supremely qualified. "Alright. What's the departure time?"

"You have one hour," Nick replied, checking the digital clock on the phone's display. "I'll have a car pick you up."

xxx

"Well, this is certainly unexpected," Wilkins said as he got over the sudden appearance of the individuals that had appeared in his office with a flash and a burst of glowing sparkles. He had known that Dormammu would send help, however he had not anticipated that it would be sent in such a dramatic fashion. Of course, Wilkins assumed that it was also a message for how powerful the demon lord was, and how he should not do anything to displease the demon lord.

"I am Ulik," a large and stout creature stated in a gravelly voice. He was built like an ape, with thick short legs and powerful arms. Sharp teeth filled a large mouth, and the creature stared at the man behind the desk with brown disdainful eyes. "He says that you have a problem with hunters in your village."

"Something like that," Wilkins noted lightly with some distaste. He recognized the creature as a rock troll, noting thick metal bands on his hands. As if a powerful troll needed the help of weapons to deal with its foes. The thick coarse hair covering the troll's body and bare two-toed feet were no doubt contaminating his office. He would have to remember to have it cleaned. "There are two Slayers in town, and my sources indicate as many potentials. Not to mention an unknown warrior of great strength, of a supernatural persuasion. There may be others in town as well, this is the Hellmouth after all."

"Good," the troll growled, smiling malevolently, its fangs jutting out as it did so. It did love a good fight.

"And I," another of the visitors said, nodding his head in deference, "am Nicholas Scratch. You may address me as Mr. Scratch."

The mayor examined the man, noting the thick black beard and mustache that were streaked with white. He was dressed in a well-cut suit, and had the air of magic about him, as well as sophistication. The rings on his fingers were likely conduits or fetishes for his arcane work. "A sorcerer then?"

"If you like," Scratch said, smiling coldly and nodding his head.

Mayor Wilkins looked to the last man in the group, frowning a little at the man's stringy and unkempt grey hair. Wild pale eyes revealed a less than settled disposition. "And you would be?"

"You can call me Blackout," the man said, smiling to reveal sharpened teeth. His eyes darted back and forth before settling on the mayor. The light overhead dimmed a little as the man examined the person he was now working for. The half demon hybrid sniffed a little, unimpressed by the mayor. "No wonder he sent us to help you."

"Yes, well, we have much work to do," Mayor Wilkins said, stomaching his distaste for the three that had been sent. Of course, they had come from Dormammu, and there could be no disrespect shown. After all, his attempts at hiring mercenaries to accomplish the tasks he needed had not yielded useable results. Even the dark mage that had wreaked havoc the previous year in his city had not been willing to return, no matter how much money had been offered. "First of all, the time has come near, and Dormammu has an enemy that he wishes to be disposed off."

That wasn't to mention that he had not liked having to pay tribute to another demon lord, and using the minions of one to off the other played into his hands quite effectively. But, neither Dormammu nor his henchmen needed to know anything about that.

"What do you need killed?" Ulik said distastefully. The modern and artificial office, not to mention the world, did not suit him. He still wore thick leather and metal armor, eschewing the modern garments that the others wore. He was a creature of violence and death and earth, and needed nothing of the comforts of humanity.

"Lurconis," Mayor Wilkins answered, looking over at the troll. He would have to come up with a disguise for the brute. A six and a half foot troll was not very subtle, even in Sunnydale. "It dwells under this city. And will soon seek tribute from its followers."

"Worm of a demon," Ulik scoffed, flexing his large hands. Though he knew of Lurconis, and its status as a demon lord, the brute strength of the giant serpent did nothing to impress him. A scavenger of droppings from the human world was all it was. "We will take dispose of your monster."

xxx

The air was still as the boy walked into the abandoned factory. Dust layered the floor unsettled, indicating that no one had been there in a very long time. Rusting machinery and conveyor belts were still there, evidence that it had once been used to produce and package bars of soap. From the looks of it, soap flakes were also a product that Excello had made. Only the quiet padding of paws indicated that anybody was in there now.

"Smell something, boy?" Amadeus said, looking down at his pup. He had searched through the connecting office building already, finding nothing. The facility had been shut down for some time, with no stray computers or paperwork left behind to give him some indication of what to do or where to go. It had only been luck that he had found an indication that the quiz he had taken was connected to what had happened. It made a certain amount of sense, but this was altogether too convenient.

Thoughts of his family threatened to intrude on his active mind as he tried to make sense of things, and he had to push them away. He walked further, scrapping his feet a little on the rough concrete floor. Hearing the slightest change in reverberation, he stopped and looked down. The floor looked different there, as if it had been altered after the concrete had previously been laid down.

"Hmm," Amadeus noted, leaning down and touching the concrete. Looking around, he managed to pry off a length of pipe off one of the machines, one end rusted all the way through. Bracing himself, he slammed the strong end into the concrete, not altogether surprised that it chipped more easily than it should have. Hammering again and again, the Korean teen managed to hack away enough to reveal a metal hatch.

Amadeus tossed the pipe on the ground and knelt down. He brushed some dust and pieces of concrete away with his hand to more clearly reveal the locking mechanism. He smiled a little as he recognized it as an old keypad. Pulling a multitool from his pocket, he set to work on prying the cover off. It wasn't long before he was able to expose the innards of the lock, and only slightly longer to unlock the thing. While it would have normally kept most people out, even those that could expose the inner workings, it was no challenge for his mind.

The hatch unlocked itself with an audible sound, and Amadeus pulled it up, revealing a ladder that led down to a tunnel. Frowning a little, the boy pulled out a flashlight out of his messenger bag and flicked it on, shining it down. He could see a flat grey floor, but little else. The faint smell off dust was evident, mixing in with the same from the warehouse. Ever cautious, Amadeus clipped the light to the strap of his bag, and pulled out a makeshift taser, shoving it into his belt. He picked up his puppy and placed him back into his jacket, zipping it up tight to make sure that the coyote was secure. Kneeling down, Amadeus made his way down the ladder.

xxx

"Wrong day," Xander said, ducking under a quick rabbit punch. He analyzed the vampire's fighting style, noting that it was a little more controlled than that of most vampires. His warrior's awareness pointed out the flaws and openings, and he exploited them.

Blocking a strike with a forearm, Xander punched the vampire in the nose, hearing the crunch of it breaking under his fist. As the vampire reeled back, Xander followed it up with a quick kick to the chest. Snapping around, Xander kicked the demon in the head, slamming it against the wall of the crypt. "Well, wrong night."

Charging up his hand, Xander punched into the vampire's open chest, blowing its heart out and turning the vampire into dust. He shook his head and looked down at where the vampire had previously stood. "Bad luck."

Looking up, he looked around, getting the feeling that he was being watched. He saw a shadow move, but it was likely just the wind moving the branches of the trees. Shaking his head, Xander moved on through the graveyard, looking for the right tomb. It wasn't long before he found it, and the surprise that lay in front of it as well.

"This can't be good," Xander muttered to himself as he knelt down next to the body. The cause of death was pretty apparent, the crossbow bolt still stuck in the back of the demon's head. An axe was strapped to its back, undrawn and indicating the demon had been taken unawares.

Pushing its head to the side, Xander frowned as he matched the mottled skin, bad teeth, and rounded horns to the description of Lagos. Standing up, he looked at the grass around the body. It was disturbed, but there was no way to indicate what had actually passed by, or at what time.

Looking around, Xander pulled his mask out of his pocket and put it on, pulling a handgun from his coat as well. He had taken to not wearing it, unless he was planning on using the Iron Fist. With Wesley in town, and Jason's indications that SHIELD was still meddling, he wanted to keep a low profile. That may not be possible anymore.

Whatever had killed Lagos, it had killed the demon in front of the Von Hauptman family crypt. The very crypt that Giles had discovered that the Glove of Myhnegon was supposed to be resting in. Looking at the metal gate, Xander noticed that it had been broken, an old lock lying on the ground, broken as well. He briefly considered going back for the others, but with Wesley insisting on joining them for the search, he pushed on by himself.

He opened the gate slowly, and slipped inside, looking around carefully. There was nobody in the tomb, though it was clear that somebody had been there already. The sepulcher had been pulled apart, from the way that the body had fallen facing the crypt, it had not likely been Lagos. Xander stepped to each individual coffin, looking inside. The usual remains were there, but nothing else. If the glove had been kept in one of them, it was no longer there now.

Searching further, Xander looked for any other places or hidden storage areas that might hold the magical artifact. It didn't take long to turn up nothing, the crypt not being all that large. He had his doubts that the perpetrator had found the glove though, given that all the coffins had been opened. It may have laid in the last, but it didn't seem too likely. Still, they had to find the thing.

xxx

Klein made his way silently through the corridors. Two of his men flanked him on either side, the rest spread out to cover the perimeter to ensure that their target could not slip by them. He moved as quickly as he dared, already angry at the situation. Delays at the airport had prevented them from getting in place before their target had arrived. He would actually have to track the boy down now, and though he did not believe that it should be that much of a problem, he did not lower his guard.

Through his enhanced senses, the super soldier could hear as the boy worked on a computer terminal down the hall. Making his way towards the sound, Klein used hand signals to tell his men to spread out as well, covering him from the right and left to ensure that their target did not escape.

Moving into a larger area just off the main hall, Klein could see flicker of a computer screen off to his right in a side room.

Amadeus sighed in frustration as he stood in front of the terminal, not finding anything of use in the computer system that he had found. The cubicles in the outer room behind him had not yielded anything useful. The only thing that was working was an old computer system that had been obsolete over a decade ago; oddly enough it was connected to the phone line. While it was clear that this place was connected to what had happened to him, it did not give him the answers that he sought. Only more places to look.

Hearing a noise from behind him, Amadeus turned around as he shoved a piece of paper into his pocket.

Klein moved forward, sliding silently as he raised his submachine gun into firing position. He aimed it at his target and started to squeeze the trigger.

xxx

"Well, the good news is that the glove was never actually in the Von Hauptman family crypt," Giles said, looking up from the text he had been reading. He adjusted his glasses as he looked around the library. The night before had been long, made even longer by the fact that the search had turned up more questions than answers. "According to this, Gustaf von Hauptman and a few others in his family had acquired a number of magical artifacts. Most were sold after the decline of the family, but some, the glove in particular, was sealed in a special vault. They did not believe that their own tomb would be enough protection. The only thing buried in that crypt were personal objects."

Wesley frowned, unhappy at the news. They should have discovered this before they had moved, but there had not been time to do so. They had had to move as soon as they had a sign. "Then where is the glove now?"

"There's a passage here that might give us an indication, but it's in code," Giles said, looking at the other Watcher. "It will take some time to decipher."

"There's someone that might help," Xander spoke up, wondering more about who had killed Lagos than anything else. He had taken the bolt with him after disposing of the body, but it likely wouldn't give them much information. It was a modern crossbow bolt, with a metal shaft and could have been purchased from any number of sporting goods stores. He supposed that it could have been purchased locally, but that would have to wait until daylight.

"Elsa," Jenny said, glancing at Xander, confirming his thought. "Rupert, if you can give me a copy of the passage, I can e-mail it to her."

"This Elsa would be?" Wesley asked, eyes narrowing a little as he looked at the computer teacher. Though there were useful members in the group, he was a little uncomfortable with the sheer size. The blonde Slayer's mother even knew of her daughter's position. It seemed liked everything that happened in Sunnydale went against Council tradition.

"A friend," Xander broke in, his tone clear and final. "Let's get that done. Hopefully we can find the glove before this other person does."

xxx

Treading forward carefully, Clint stalked through the halls. He had had to leave the others behind, catching sight of the men that had taken up a perimeter around the facility. The target could have already been inside, but there was no way to be sure. More than that, he had no way of knowing how many people were inside, and he couldn't risk alerting the guards to their presence. It meant that Coulson and the rest of his agents had to stay near the vehicles, taking up their own guard positions. It also meant that Bruce had to stay behind as well, that lack of backup the most worrying. Also, his destructive potential in the tunnels were more of a problem than a solution.

Still, he had a job to do. Hearing footsteps, the man known as Hawkeye slipped into a dark corner, holding his breath as he noticed a trio of armed and armored men walk through the hall. They turned a corner, and he stepped out to follow them. It didn't take long to see what they were doing. He watched them break off as they moved to engage the target, and he hurried forward as well.

Watching as the bald one raised his weapon, Clint did the same, snapping up his silenced pistol and firing off a round. It hit the bald one in the head, the body hitting the floor with a louder sound than that of the gun that had just been fired. Snapping his arm to the left and then to the right, he fired twice more in rapid succession, hearing the bodies of the other two men hit the floor.

"Amadeus Cho," Clint asked, his voice a little echoey through the mask he was wearing. He noticed with some fascination as the boy pulled out a taser, pointing it at him with no hesitation. The kid had some balls. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm with the government. I'm here to get you out."

Amadeus just stared at the man, and then to the body on the floor. He didn't trust anybody, but the man had just saved his life. He was willing to go on a little faith at this point. "Who are you?"

"My name's Clint," Hawkeye said in a calm tone, he lowered his pistol slowly to show that he wasn't a threat. "We don't have much time. There's nine more men out there, and if this one was any indication, they mean to kill you."

Amadeus said nothing, though his mind was working quickly. He felt his coyote fidget underneath his jacket, but ignored it. He lowered his weapon a fraction of an inch.

"Kid, I'm sorry about your family. But, you have to trust somebody right now," Clint pleaded, taking a chance and pulling off his mask. He looked the boy in the eye and spoke again, "we don't have much time, and we need to go now."

Nodding, Amadeus stepped forward moving towards the government agent. There was nothing for him there anyway. Images of experimentation on his brain flashed through his mind, but he could deal with that potentiality after he was gone.

"Good." Hawkeye replaced his mask, activating the micro-HUD again. He turned on the radio and spoke, "Hawkeye to team, I have the package, moving out now."

He noticed something odd, and then looked down at the impossible. The man that he had just shot was getting up again and turning towards him.

"Nice try," Klein growled as the bullet pushed out of his forehead and dropped to the floor. He didn't know why he hadn't noticed the man sneaking up on them, but it wouldn't matter in a few seconds.

"Down the hall," Clint ordered as he pulled his gun again. This time wasn't as easy as the former corpse dodged. He could hear the other two men that he had shot get up again too. It was impossible, but that fact didn't change the reality of the situation. It looked like Sterns had managed to accomplish all sorts of things during the last couple of years.

Pulling his submachine gun up from its tactical sling, he laid down suppressing fire as he followed after Amadeus. He knew that he hit them, but it didn't matter. Whatever kept them alive, or their armor, kept them coming. Grunting, he felt two rounds hit him in the back, only the advanced body armor keeping the bullets from penetrating. He spoke through his radio again as he fired behind him, going for joint hits to keep them from coming too quickly. "Move in now. Advanced healing factor; they won't drop for long. Pound them hard."

Clint plucked a grenade from his belt and pulled the pin, tossing it behind him as he rounded a corner. It exploded seconds later, buying them time to escape. Reaching the boy as Amadeus started to climb the ladder to the surface, Clint grasped the rungs and started to climb up behind him. It didn't take long to reach the top, and they heard the sounds of battle as Coulson's men laid down fire on the odd strike team that was gunning for Amadeus. They were all in the factory now, the strike team having moved in when the gunfire started up. Rolling as he came up to avoid gun fire, Clint grasped his submachine gun again and fired back, hitting a few of their attackers. It didn't do much though, as they stood up again quickly. Still, it was better than nothing.

"Fuck," Clint grit through his teeth as he ducked behind some rusting equipment. Looking to his side, he noticed that Amadeus was there as well, fear in the boy's eyes. Yet, there was clarity, and he was even more impressed with the kid.

Peeking up from behind the machine, Amadeus analyzed the fight and the environment around them. The government men were trying to push the others back, but that wouldn't work for very long. However, there was a way out that wasn't being noticed, or there would be one in 5.8 seconds. He glanced over at the man that had saved him. "There's an opening. Let's go."

Clint wasn't too sure, but he didn't have many options at the moment. Getting up in a crouch, he looked over the boxing machine and watched as two more of the other side got hit. Amadeus moved forward, crouching as low as possible, and he followed. Bullets whizzed by, but nobody noticed as they made their way to one of the side exits.

"Toss a grenade over there," Amadeus said, not breaking stride. He pointed at the corner to his left, at a pile of broken machinery.

Clint did as he was told, pulling a charge from his belt and banking it off of the wall and into the corner behind the machine parts. It exploded seconds later, and he saw bits of flesh and blood splatter against the wall. Some of the strike team and gathered there for a push forward. He ignored it though, and moved up behind the kid, taking up his firearm again.

"Crap," Amadeus said, as he noticed the length of chain and lock on the door. He hadn't been able to see it when he had analyzed the situation before. It was an unknown variable that would eat up too much time to deal with. He turned around, looking for another way out.

"Stay down," Clint said, pushing the boy down as he moved up. Pulling a small explosive out of a pouch, he attached it to the door. Stepping to the side, and pulling the kid to him, he crouched over Amadeus as he detonated the charge, relying on his armor to deal with any shrapnel or debris. The door blew open, and Clint pushed Amadeus up and towards the exit. He could see the path towards the vehicles now. "Go. Follow the path."

They had just made it out the door, and Clint was on his radio again. He heard the sound of gunfire, and hoped that none of his men had gone down. Bad intel, though it was something that could not have been anticipated. "Pull out now. We're outside. Cover our retreat."

They were almost to the extraction point, and he could see their vehicles in more detail when Clint was hit in the back. He fell to the desert floor, flipping around, and grappling with the man that had just blindsided him. Hawkeye managed to get his pistol up and shot his attacker point blank in the chest. It didn't do enough, and the rounds did not even penetrate the armor. He felt as the weapon was batted from his hand, skidding to a stop in a puff of dust and sand.

Clint stared up at the other man's tanned face, seeing nothing but a smile on his attacker's face. It was the bald one from earlier, a stain of blood the only indication that he had been shot in the head, and he looked none too happy about what had happened. Reaching down, Hawkeye managed to pull a knife from his belt, and slashed it up at Baldie's face.

Klein said nothing, ignoring the pain and grabbed the knife by the blade, feeling it sink into his padded glove. He ripped it out of the man's hand and tossed it away, feeling his face heal as he did so.

Clint's eyes widened behind his mask as he saw the wound he had just inflicted literally pull back together, healing itself within seconds.

The grin on the man's face grew wider as he pulled his own hand forward, clenching it into a fist. A shudder seemed to go through it, and three wickedly sharp blades shot forward, coming out between the knuckle plates on the glove.

"The hell," Clint exclaimed, pulling his feet in and trying to kick the man off. It wasn't fast enough, but did knock the man's aim off. Instead of going through his head, Clint felt the blades pierce his body armor as if it wasn't there, taking him in the upper shoulder. Gritting his teeth, he kicked off again, managing to knock his attacker off this time.

Rolling to his right, Clint grabbed his gun and fired the rest of the magazine off, ignoring the stinging pain in his shoulder. Every bullet hit the bald man in the chest, but he got up and kept coming. Baldie was grinning as if it was all going according to plan.

"Shit," Clint muttered, ejecting the magazine. His left arm wouldn't move right, and so he had to place his gun under his armpit to allow him to grab another magazine from a pouch. He could see the other man just come at him, claws extending now from his other hand. "Oh shit."

"Stay away from him!" a voice shouted, deep and booming in volume.

Clint just smiled in relief as he saw the bald man get a taste of his own medicine as he was hit from behind. The blow had taken them a fair distance away from him though. Baldie was good though, and managed to get to his feet, clawing his attacker about the chest and legs.

Dr. Banner just took it, feeling the pain and the blood flowing down his face as he fell to his knees. He looked up at the armored figure and grinned, his eyes turning green and starting to glow. Feeling himself let go, his clothes ripped and his muscles and skeletal structure expanded. The pain eventually stopped as he reached nine feet in height. He looked down at the man that had slashed him, the claws once again aimed at him.

"HULK SMASH!" the Hulk shouted, reaching back and punching out quicker than his size would have indicated. It got the man in the chest, sending him flying back into the dust. It wasn't long before the man was back though, this time a little more careful, and actually limping a little. Still, Baldie was extremely quick.

The sharp blades could not do much against the Hulk's thick skin, though the Hulk could not catch the other man either. He was simply too quick for the Hulk's grabs.

Clint didn't bother to watch the battle, instead concentrating on reloading his gun. He knew that he was losing blood quickly, and his head was feeling light. He felt himself stumble as he tried to regain his feet, and arms caught him. He turned to see Amadeus steadying him.

"You need to get out here," Clint said, shaking his head to clear it.

"They're leaving," Amadeus said, pointing out towards the Hulk. He was amazed at the sight, but concentrated on the armored figure as he disengaged from the dark green titan and ran away. The sounds of gunfire also died down, as the other men from the strike team also made their exit.

"Hawkeye to Coulson," Clint said into his radio, gritting his teeth as he got to his feet yet again. He was swaying a little, but found his balance quickly. "What's your status? Over."

"They're leaving," Coulson said over a few stray shots. His team had moved in to cover Clint's retreat, but had soon got bogged down in their own firefight. Luckily, they had had no fatalities, but that had only been because they had just needed to keep the other side back. From what he had seen, the other team had been sporting super soldiers of unknown make. If they had been keen on attacking, rather than attempting to reacquire the boy, things would have been much worse.

"Good, exfil now, before they change their minds," Clint said, moving towards his own car. He noticed that the Hulk was by his side now, watching for any attackers.

"What are you?" Amadeus said, staring up at the giant green man that was towering over him.

The Hulk just stared at the relatively small boy. He reached out and patted him on the head. "Good boy."

"Power down, Hulk," Clint ordered, watching as the rest of the team arrived. "We need to get out of here."

xxx

"Over here," Kendra said, waving the rest of the group over. She brushed some vines and dried leaves from the front of a large stone crypt. The falling vegetation revealed the rest of the name that had been carved onto the front of the tomb. Age had faded some of it, but it was still legible.

"Ah yes," Wesley said, as he walked up next to the Slayer. He looked at the tomb, nodding at the name. "Harkness. Here we go."

Ms. Calendar's friend had been able to decipher the code in a day, though he did not know how. Wesley supposed that he should be glad that the computer teacher and apparent technopagan had access to such an ally, but he was suspicious given that she had not been willing to reveal exactly who that person was. Still, that was a matter to be attended to at another time.

Xander walked up to the vault as well, frowning as he saw the door to the tomb. It had been cracked already. "We're too late."

"What do you mean?" Wesley asked, turning to look at the teenager. He heard Buffy come upon them as well, accompanied by the witch, Amy. A motley group if ever there was one, though he put on a carefully constructed face. He could show neither weakness nor confusion in front of them, and had to present himself as if he knew exactly what he was doing.

Saying nothing, Xander just turned and looked around. They were in a small clearing in the graveyard, trees and tall bushes separating the vault from the rest of the graves. He could not see anything out of place, but got the feeling that they weren't alone.

"The boy is right," a voice called out, a figure stepping out from behind a dense collection of bushes. She was a woman in her mid-thirties with perfectly brushed light brown hair. She was attractive, though she would have been more so if not for the severely prim attitude she exuded.

Lifting her right hand, the group saw that it was encased in the Glove of Myhnegon. The metal claws that surrounded the bottom opening had dug into the woman's skin, blood flowing down towards her shoulder. "Taou huogan maqachte milegaing!"

A bolt of lightning cracked through the sky as the woman continued to look up. "Tauo freim!"

"Ruh ror," Xander said, as lightning descended to encase the glove in its power. He saw flickers of lightning play over the metallic plates that made up the gauntlet.

Wesley took a tentative step forward, not knowing what to do, but knowing that he had to do something. "Gwendolyn Post."

The woman looked down, and then smiled as she recognized the man in front of her. It wasn't a particularly friendly smile. "Wesley Wyndham-Pryce."

"You know each other?" Buffy asked, looking between the two. She got the feeling she was supposed to slay something, but wasn't sure exactly who. "She's a Watcher?"

"Ex-Watcher," Wesley said bitterly. He watched the woman carefully, blood draining from his face as he watched her flex the glove. "She was kicked out by the Council for misuses of dark power."

"Oh Wesley," Gwendolyn said, smirking in amusement. She had always viewed him as something of a stuck up prig. "If that's what you want to call it."

Smiling wider, the former Watcher held the glove up in front of her face, a bolt of lightning striking it again. The glove redirected the lightning forward towards the group. She seemed to glow as the power flowed through her and towards the Slayers and Watcher.

"Protect!" Amy shouted, raising her hands. A shimmering force field appeared around them, glowing under the onslaught of the lightning. She grunted out at the level of power she was protecting them against, knowing that she couldn't hold it for long.

"Amy!" Buffy shouted, as she saw her friend cast the spell. She turned to face their attacker, but there was nothing that she could do, the short sword in her hand rather useless in the face of the lightning storm.

Reaching into his coat, Xander pulled out a handgun, gathering up his chi and sending it into his hand. He fired once, the bullet streaking out like a tracer towards the woman, moving through the unidirectional shield with no resistance. It hit the gauntlet in the palm, causing a small explosion as his chi mixed violently with the magic of the glove.

Gwendolyn grunted as her hand was blasted back, and she stumbled to her knees. The lightning dropped as a result. She tried to lift her hand again, but the damage caused too much pain.

"By the authority of the Council-" Wesley started to say, regaining his composure and stepping forward to confront the woman.

Xander moved forward and aimed again, firing a single shot, unpowered this time. He watched it hit the woman in between the eyes, and she fell to her side, dead before she hit the ground. As soon as he was sure she was dead, he turned and moved towards Amy.

"What did you do?" Wesley said, looking at Gwendolyn's body to the teenager that had just killed her.

The Iron Fist said nothing, kneeling down at Amy's fallen form. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Amy said, getting up with Buffy's help. She winced a little as she stood on her feet. "It was…overwhelming."

"How do you feel?" Xander asked, checking the witch over for injuries.

Amy just shook her head. "Odd, kinda tingly. There was so much power. I don't know how I was able to hold the shield."

"Good thing you did." Xander smiled at her, and then glanced at the body cooling in the night. "Well, looks like that's done."

"Mr. Harris," Wesley said firmly, walking up behind the gathered warriors. He readjusted his suit in annoyance. "What did you think you were doing?"

Xander turned around fully and stood up, looking the Watcher in the eye. He raised the gun, holding it at eye level, though he didn't point it at anyone. "This? Saving our asses."

"It is not your position to take the life of a human," Wesley said, ignoring the firearm. Such tools were not used by the Slayers, as tradition dictated. They were too ineffective against the supernatural threats that the Slayers fought. "You will turn over your weapons immediately."

"That cost me 50 cents," Xander said, ignoring the command. He holstered the gun again beneath his coat.

"What?" Wesley said, thrown off by the comment.

Xander just looked at the man in complete seriousness. "Two bullets, and I'm not even adding in wear and tear for the gun. The bullets cost me a quarter a piece and I used two. Is there some form I need to fill out? Or are you just going to reimburse me out of pocket?"

"What?" Wesley asked again, not sure if he was understanding what was being said, or if the boy had gone mad.

"You should probably be glad that I'm a good shot. I could have emptied the mag into her," Xander said lightly. His eyes were serious though. "I don't work for you. I don't have to do what you tell me to do. I thought I made that clear to Ms. Chalmers, but I guess I need to make it clear to you."

"Be that as it may, but I am Watcher here," Wesley said, showing strength that he didn't know that he did. He looked the boy in the eye. "And I will fulfill my duty as one."

Xander said nothing and merely adjusted his coat. Narrowing his eye a bit in concentration, he relented a little. He had been a little hard on the man after all, though it had been altogether too easy to do so. "Wesley, I don't hate you. But, you're a kind of dick."

Still, he punched the Watcher lightly in the arm and smiled. "Homecoming's tomorrow. See you there?"

xxx

"How are you feeling?" Amadeus asked, looking at the bulge that denoted a thick gauze patch on Clint's upper chest. He sighed and leaned against the rail.

Clint just shrugged, feeling a little pulling and pain. He ignored it though, the stitches were holding together well. "I'll be fine. How are you doing?"

Amadeus said nothing, looking out over the construction that was occurring in the underground facility. He knew that it was under the main SHIELD building that he had been brought to, but knowing where he was didn't make him feel like any less of a prisoner. "When do I get to leave?"

"I told you, kid," Clint said, leaning against the railing as well. "You're safe here. We're going to figure out what happened to your family."

"And avenge them?" Amadeus asked, glancing up at the man. "That's what you do right?"

"Yeah, that's right," Clint said softly. He looked down at the coyote pup that was sitting on the metal walkway, chewing at itself. Odd thing, but he'd seen odder. And done odder. "We're avengers."

Amadeus said nothing, instead turning to look out over the construction again. There was material and room set aside to build a shooting range, an armory, workshops and labs, and all manner of things. Which meant that he could also see exactly five ways of breaking out of the facility.

He put his hands in his pockets, one hand tightening on the piece of paper that he had kept from the incident in Utah.

xxx

Carefully holding the plastic cup, Xander filled it with the shockingly red punch. The homecoming committee had spared no expense at Costco to outfit the dance. Red and yellow balloons floated near the ceiling as the music pounded. It was nothing like the party in the Heart of Heaven, and the fact that he compared the two did make him think about what was going on in K'un-L'un. In a way, it was almost like home. "Hmm."

Turning, Xander looked at the crowd on the dance floor, dancing to the beat. The hormones could almost be felt flying around, as the chaperones kept an eye on the couples, making sure they didn't get to close to each other. He almost had to smile, watching as Faith made short work of some guy that clearly had no idea what he was getting into. Vi and Kendra were dancing with Buffy and Willow and their dates; the circle that is so common in high school. Amy was there as well, with some boy that he only tangentially knew. Michael Czajak, he believed.

He took a sip of the punch, and then looked at the cup wanting to spit the punch out. Someone had clearly not followed the printed instructions. Xander turned back around and placed the cup onto the table. "Having fun, Ms. Calendar?"

"Oh yes," Jenny said, glancing over at him and smiling. She could see Principal Snyder lecture a couple of students that had been kissing. Personal displays of affection being forbidden and all by the school administrator. "It's been very enlightening. What you kids are getting up to these days."

She spoke a little more quietly, making sure that she couldn't be heard by anyone else. "Why I do believe that some of these students might even be getting lucky tonight. After the dance."

"Why, that might very well be." Xander smiled to himself. He noticed his "dates" beckoning to him back to the dance floor. "Well, I better be off. Looks like duty calls."

Jenny watched as Xander got back onto the dance floor, having fun with his friends. The music changed to a slow dance, and Xander held onto Vi as they swayed, Kendra dancing with Scott as Buffy took a break. She smiled sadly a little as she watched the potential dance with Xander.

"Uh, how are you this evening, Jenny?" Giles asked, stepping up to the table. He picked up an empty cup and filled it with punch. He looked over at the computer teacher as he took a drink. Frowning, he set it down quickly, swallowing what he had in his mouth with some struggle.

"Fine, Rupert," Jenny answered, hiding her grin as she watched Giles taste the punch. She gained her composure after a moment. "How are you?"

"Good, good," Giles said, a little distractedly. "Well, things are a bit easier and quieter now, with so many Watchers in town. I almost don't know what to do with myself."

"Ah," Jenny said, smiling. "A man of leisure."

"Quite," Giles said, flustered at her smile. "I was thinking that, since I have more time now, we might go out for dinner sometime. Or catch one of those monster truck rallies you enjoy so much."

"Oh Rupert," Jenny said, eyes widening a little in surprise. She looked at him sympathetically. "I'm actually seeing someone right now. I am flattered though."

"Oh it's okay," Giles said quickly, trying to recover. "It was…it was just a thought."

xxx

Blackout growled as he slashed into the giant serpent's back. The thick scaly hide of the beast parted easily under the attack, exposing red flesh. Lurconis tried to buck the demon off of its back, and managed to dislodge it after slamming against the wall of the sewer. The blow managed to impact against the wounds that had been ripped open, and the demon screamed grotesquely in pain.

From the front, Scratch charged up and pointed his hands outward, sending bolt after bolt of magic energy out towards their target. The glowing orbs slammed into the split-jawed head of the demon lord, sending it rearing up and thrashing about in pain. The wizard looked over at his partner and nodded, smiling darkly.

With a returned grin, Ulik leapt forward, pulling back a metal-banded fist and punching out with all its might. It slammed hard into Lurconis' head, grasping onto its neck as they slammed into the side wall. The troll punched again and again into the beast's head, feeling it open up under its strikes. He could hear more slashing and grunts as Blackout got into the fight once again, exposing more and more of its flesh.

"Enough," Scratch shouted out, smiling as his eyes started to glow black. His hands glowed as well, and he raised them, fingers splayed in an arcane position as if he was throwing the goat.

The other two members of the group leapt off of the beast, Lurconis rising up and swaying in pain and confusion, one of its lower jaws broken, and patches of skin torn open on its belly and head.

The sorcerer concentrated and then let loose his spell, blue bolts of lightning streaking out of his fists and into the exposed flesh of the demon. The bits that struck its magic-resistant hide were deflected off, but there was enough exposed meat to hurt the beast. The extreme temperature caused the serpent to catch on fire, and it screamed in pain, writhing and thrashing about in the sewer tunnel. Scratch did not let up and poured on the magic, the glow lighting up his face, his eyes flickering in mad delight.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Scratch let the spell end. Lurconis dropped to the ground with a thud, twitching as it died. Its hide was blackened and small bits of fat was still burning and expelling acrid smoke.

Ulik walked up to the monster's head, and smiled as he knelt. Reaching into its mouth it pulled out a long and wickedly tooth, one end covered in blood. "Victory."

xxx

The woman frowned as she read her way through the file. It completed her investigation, and though the boy had tried to be careful to conceal his identity, it had been woefully inadequate when put up against her espionage and counter-espionage skills. However, the picture that was being painted was something that she had not anticipated, even considering the coupling that she had glimpsed the night before. While she made no judgments, considering the types of lives that those who operated in the shadows lived, it did add significant complications to the boy as well as his character.

Picking up her cell phone, Natasha dialed Fury's phone. It did not take long to get through. "I have him. Xander Harris, Caucasian male, seventeen years of age."

"Send me the file," Nick said, sitting up straighter in his seat on the bench. It had been an investigation that had been ongoing for months, and the fact that Natasha had broken it did make him rather excited. Not that he showed it publically though.

He wasn't at his desk, having been called to account for his actions in Washington. It was a tiresome exercise that happened more often than he would have liked, but it was a price he had to pay to have his own agency. Still, there was a large part of him that wished he was doing more field work. "And tell me about him."

"He is as powerful as your man Coulson has found, although he may be even more powerful than that. He has control of his abilities, so we may not have seen his full power," Natasha said over the phone, as she finished typing up her report. "He seems to be able to charge up material, as theorized, which gives it great kinetic energy upon impact. However, he can channel that energy into his bare hands as well. And he is skilled with firearms, with or without applying his gifts."

"So it is an innate ability," Nick said, nodding. It did fit with the theories that they had been developing on the mysterious warrior. The key question though was in the recruitment and fit for the team that he was putting together. The age wasn't really all that important, the rest of it was though. "Is there anything else?"

"I know what you want him for, there are ways of gaining his cooperation I would think, however, he may have already been compromised," Natasha replied. "He is the nephew of one of the founders of a biker gang. The Sons of Anarchy. They've been involved with gun running and a number of other crimes. He was involved in an incident in Charming, California. He killed and wounded a number of members of rival gang known as the Mayans. He is quite dangerous."

"Damn," Nick muttered, thinking that it did somewhat fit with why there was a hit on the motorcycle gangs in Arizona.

"Da. Still, it could have an alternate explanation. He was defending himself, and according to the police report, he saved a little girl during the attack." Natasha didn't know exactly how to view the young man. She wanted more data, but she had been asked to report what information she could find as soon as possible. "I have checked around, and his travels during the previous summer cover the incidents that you've tracked."

"Good," Nick said, not knowing exactly how he wanted things to play out. The lack of concrete information was annoying. "What else?"

"He's involved with someone," Natasha said delicately. She had seen the way that they had looked at each other, and not even to her practiced eye did it look fake, though it had been through high powered night-vision goggles. Still, looks could be deceiving, as she had employed herself in the past. "A woman, she was his teacher last year. From what I can tell, it's pretty serious."

"Damn," Nick said, not liking the sheer amount of dirt on the prospect.

"That's not the worst part however," Natasha warned, the jacket she had been looking at still open in a window on her desktop.

Nick sighed, looking over at the assistant that was hailing him over. He stood up and picked up his briefcase. "What is it?"

"Her name is Jenny Calendar, however that was not her name from birth." Natasha clicked over and pulled up the woman's background again on her computer. "Legally changed, but her name was originally Janna Kalderash. She's Latverian."

Director Fury said nothing, able to spin the story himself. It wasn't uncommon either, though more a product of the Cold War than something used now. Women, or men, or boys or girls, whatever the preferred flavor was, could often be used to turn assets. Men especially could be very vulnerable to sex, and for someone so young, an older woman would likely have significant influence. The so-called President for Life, Victor von Doom, had turned his country into the ninth richest country on Earth in nearly as few years, through sheer intellect and technology that was rival that of Tony Stark. It was rumored that Von Doom was expanding his military might into more genetic paths, which could easily explain why a Latverian had taken up with a teenager, or rather this specific teenager.

"Damn," Nick said at last, walking slowly through the hallway towards the aide.

Natasha said nothing for a moment. "From what I can see, he is actually playing the part of hero. There is no indication that she is a Latverian agent. I have not been able to observe him for very long either, but my impression is that he could prove to be a valuable asset to you and your team."

"Continue watching him," Nick said, reaching the doorway to the assembly hall where he would be questioned. He valued Natasha's judgment highly, and if she believed that there were unanswered questions and potential, then it did bear investigating further. "We need to know where he stands before we move."

He closed his cell phone with that and put it into his pocket, walking through the doorway.

Natasha sat back in her chair thinking. She didn't need to be told that that might mean assassination instead of recruitment.

xxx

"What is it?" Buffy asked, shining the flashlight onto Xander. The light played with Xander's shadow as it was projected onto the wall of the sewer.

"Nothing," Xander said as he knelt down, looking at the decaying serpent in front of him. He had been smiling before, though he dropped it now. His own flashlight highlighted burn damage and slash marks. The demon had not gone down easy.

"No really," Buffy said, frowning as she smelled the demon. "What is it? The girl?"

Xander had to keep himself from smiling again. He was happy though, it had been a while since he had been able to steal a night away with his girlfriend. And they had certainly made the most of it. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"C'mon, Xander," Buffy pouted, standing next to the demon corpse, her hands on her hips. Willy had made good with his information, but it was hardly such an urgent hunt. Somehow the bartender had learned of some type of demon battle in the sewers a couple of nights or so before. A few bills passed, and he had given them the location.

Xander smiled, and looked at the Slayer. "We had phone sex. Want to know the details?"

"Eww," Buffy exclaimed, turning back to the demonic corpse. Anything but think about Xander talking about having sex over the telephone. "What's with the giant worm?"

"I have no idea," Xander said, sticking his flashlight into a coat pocket. He took out a camera and stepped back a few feet. Putting it to his eye, he snapped a few pictures, the flash blinding them a few times in the process. "I'm sure Giles will be able to figure it out though."

xxx

"He escaped," the Mandarin said through grit teeth. He wore his displeasure on his face, making it quite clear to Klein that the failure was unacceptable. That they had revealed themselves to what appeared to be agents of the government was also infuriating. A simple kill, and his prize team had done no better than the first one.

"Yes," Klein said, staring the Mandarin in the face. There was no excuse; it was a failure and one that could not be repeated. It had taken some time to reach a safe location, and he was sure that he was not being tracked. At least, not by the United States government. The Mandarin was most displeased at the turn of events, as well as at how long it had taken to hear from him. "However, he did access the computer system, and I believe that he will be on his way to the secondary location."

He had been the one to devise the planted information, just in case Amadeus managed to escape. The chance of that had been deemed unlikely, but it now seemed like it turned out to be a good play. And Sunnydale was the most ideal location for the next confrontation. Men operating with abilities such as theirs would be less notable on the Hellmouth.

"You will reacquire the target, and make sure that you leave him dead this time," the Mandarin said, emphasizing his words. "I am not in the habit of repeating myself. And I will cut my losses. You know what that would entail, do you not?"

Klein nodded, frowning. "I understand. I will not fail you again, Master."

The Mandarin did not respond, turning off the video conference window before leaning back in his seat. The appearance of the one known as the Hulk, this time working under the auspices of the government had not been expected. He could not totally blame his men, though ultimately they would have to take responsibility for their failure. Insanity may be repetition with the expectation of different results, but there were always unforeseen circumstances that could turn success to failure.

It was only in keeping with flawed methods that one was truly insane.

xxx

"He escaped," Director Fury said, running his hand over his chin. He was almost incredulous, but had to admit, they had never really had to think about having to hold the seventh smartest person on the planet. It was not like they had actually tossed the boy into a cell either.

"Yes, sir," Agent Coulson said, more than a little displeased at the security measures that had been put into place. They had failed obviously, which meant that he would have to go over the plans procedure by procedure and basically reinvent them from the ground up. "We're reviewing the video now to determine how exactly he was able to pull it off."

"Clint did say he was impressed by the kid," Nick said, shaking his head. "We need to find him though. He's still a target."

"We have a potential location," Coulson said, passing over a printed out screen capture from their security tape. It was a close-up of a note that Amadeus had. "Sunnydale. It could mean nothing, but we think it was based on something that was found in the Excello factory. Unfortunately, the computer system there erased itself after it was accessed by Cho. So we can't be sure exactly what it means. It could be a clue as to where the person responsible for all of this is hiding."

"It could be a trap as well," Director Fury noted dispassionately. "A place to drive the boy in case they lost him in Utah. Do we have anything else on who attacked Clint and Bruce?"

Coulson shook his head. "We haven't been able to track down exactly where they came from. However, they did leave some evidence behind. Shell casings indicate that they have access to American weapons and we are tracking down the source. However we did find something much more interesting."

"Their augmentation?" Nick asked rhetorically.

Coulson nodded. "Dr. Banner examined the blood cells that were left. They've shown rather significant genetic enhancements. Enhanced strength and senses. Accelerated healing factor. From what Dr. Banner has said, it's partly gamma research based, but the only gamma radiation used was to accelerate cellular growth from the gene therapy. There's also evidence of drug saturation, bonded at the molecular level. There are some similarities to the ones used in Project: Rebirth. Bionics may be involved as well, based on Sergeant Barton's account of the weapon that he was stabbed with."

"Super soldiers," Nick simplified, more calmly than he felt. "Somebody's managed to make working super soldiers in number, and they're operating freely on American soil."

The war had just come home.

"We've managed to get some good video of their faces," Coulson added, one small bright spot in the report. "With a little luck we should be able to find out who they are. That would give us some indication as to where they came from."

"A potential China connection," Nick speculated, though that was only country of direct origin. There could be a connection to the Ten Rings as well. The rumored Sterns location was something to be taken seriously, given the other circumstantial evidence now. He has always feared an actual government-backed attack utilizing advanced technological and genetic weapons. Still, the borders of the communist state were not as secure as the Chinese government might have believed and the terrorist organization could simply be hiding out there. Of course, searching the country for them would be impossible. "That doesn't inspire me with much hope on what we're going to find."

"Yes, sir," Phil said in agreement.

"Alright," Director Fury said, nodding to himself. "Keep on it. We need to find out what's going on. The strike team is our best bet for now. And, we need to locate Amadeus and bring him in. Again."

"Sir, if Sunnydale was a plant, then that strike team is also going to head there too," Agent Coulson said, knowing that his boss was rather tense about the situation, despite not showing it outwardly. "Regardless, if they know that Amadeus knows, that's where they're going to be."

"I know," Fury said, it looked like he might have to send his men into harm's way once again. Hopefully, Tony could make it this time. It was unfortunate that the War Machine armor was still not yet up and running.

"The DRI is still getting their facility set up," Coulson continued. "We may not be allowed to operate in Sunnydale."

"I know," the director said again, unhappy about the situation. He might not simply be able to order Clint and the rest into Sunnydale to recover the boy, officially at least.

xxx

Author's Note: The lack of reviews makes me a sad panda.


	4. Chapter Three: Go Down, Moses

**Chapter Three: Go Down, Moses**

The man could smell death and garbage. As much as the enhanced senses helped in his work, they also had their share of drawbacks. Being able to track something down like a dog also meant that he could smell just about each and every thing in that alleyway. Both alive and not so alive.

Turning around, he grinned as he saw the two figures at the foot of the alley. They were a mix of sizes, one larger than even him and the other small, but still heavily built. From the way that they smelled, not so much the deathly sweet scent of a corpse, but rather the dried dusty texture of the undead, he could tell that they weren't exactly normal. Of course, normal was a foregone conclusion in Sunnydale, especially at night. Which included himself, he supposed.

Still, he had to know what he was getting himself into, and despite the various creatures and beasts he had encountered in the various battlefields he had found himself in, he had never actually been on a Hellmouth.

The smaller one sniffed the air, his face shifting as he did. His grin revealed sharp teeth and his eyes glowed yellow. "Breakfast."

Klein said nothing, just stepping back further into the alley as the two men, now vampires, approached. As the smaller one darted forward, going for his neck, Klein shifted to his right, almost blurring as he kicked the back of the vampire's knee.

The small demon fell to his knee, pain shooting through his joints at the impact, surprised by the speed of the attack. He growled and turned, attempting to rise to his feet. The last thing the vampire saw was a trio of blades glinting off the streetlight as it flashed towards its head.

Klein pulled his arm back and stared at the other vampire, the one on his knees before him crumbling to dust.

The large vampire roared, and ran forward, his arms outstretched in order to grab the man that had just killed his partner. While there was little real love for the other vampire, they had had the closest thing to a friendship between two vampires possible for over a hundred years.

Klein circled to the left, the outstretched hands of the demon rushing by his face. Clawing upwards, he spun around as he cut off the vampire's arms up to the elbow. While the demon reacted to the pain, the super soldier stabbed into the vampire's back, twisting as he broke his victim's spinal cord. The demon, finding that its legs no longer worked, fell hard onto the concrete pavement.

"You son of a bitch!" the vampire yelled out, struggling to turn over using its ruined arms, blood flowing out of them and staining the concrete ground. He didn't know what the hell the man that they had picked as their meal was, but he knew that it was a hell of a lot more dangerous than them. Still, there was no way that he'd go done begging.

Klein moved to the side of the alley and kicked out at a pallet that was resting against the wall. It splintered easily, and he picked up large piece. Moving over towards the demon, Klein thrust downward, the stake only slightly slowed down as it splintered through flesh and rib. It dusted soon afterwards, taking the chunk of wood with it. The super soldier stood up again and surveyed the alleyway that looked nearly untouched, no evidence of the demons remaining, but for some spilled blood that was rapidly mixing with the other unknown fluids on the ground.

Klein turned around and walked out, dusting off his hands and putting them in his pockets. The Mandarin had been mostly correct he supposed. The Hellmouth did attract all sorts of dangerous demons and beasts. But, the most dangerous of them all had waited until now to visit.

He merely grinned. "Enjoy your stay, indeed."

xxx

"What do you think Kirby?"Amadeus asked, stroking his chin as he leaned back in his chair, his feet propped up on his bed. He looked from the television set that was on the local network affiliate to his puppy that was currently occupied with eating from a paper plate. He wasn't supposed to have pets in the motel room, but from the looks of the place, that probably wasn't the only improper thing that had been done in there.

The puppy looked up from his food, tongue wagging at it looked at its master in response to its name. Not seeing anything to do, Kirby turned back to his food, chomping down happily.

Amadeus smiled briefly and looked back to the laptop that was on his thighs. It was a cheap model, and all he could afford from the money that he had managed to pull from the wallets he had found in the locker room back at the SHIELD facility. He felt a little bad about that, but he promised himself that he would pay them back one day. "Yeah, it looks a little thin. Very thin."

After he had had some time to think about it, he knew that anything that he had pulled from the Excello database in Utah could have been another trap. After all, Utah itself had ended up being a trap. While SHIELD had been the ones that had pulled him out of that mess, he knew that he couldn't fully trust them, not yet at least. He had managed to hack his way into a number of their systems, their personnel files a wealth of information. It was filled with typical government men, and more. Former soldiers and transfers from other agencies, it was probably just a typical federal agency, only with better skilled men. Which didn't bode well for him, not to mention the fact that he couldn't figure out which organization Agent Sexton worked for. If people wanted him, alive or dead, for his extraordinary brain, there was no reason why the government wouldn't be one of those parties.

He still wasn't sure exactly what he was. He had always been smart. He had always been something of an outcast, his intellect setting him apart from other kids. Still he had had friends, usually other outcasts, smarter than the rest. RPG's and books had been an escape, allowing him to follow and create all new worlds filled with incredible adventures. They had all been filled with their share of danger and harrowing action. He supposed he was in his own real life adventure now, only it wasn't so fun. And he didn't exactly have a rule book to refer to.

Such was his life though, Amadeus thought, his eyes glazing over a little bit as he stared at the computer screen.

"Well now, what's this," Amadeus muttered, as the computer finished running the regression. He pulled up a couple of other graphs as well, the data confirming what he had just calculated. The death rate and number of missing persons case were extraordinarily high given the population and reported crime rates for the town. Not to mention that the number of cemeteries in the town was way too high given the population demographics. He looked at Kirby again, the puppy opening its jaws wide with a small yip. "That kind of murder rate…looks like somebody's expecting me to be another unsolved murder."

Amadeus stretched his arms and sighed, putting his laptop onto the nightstand next to him. He had been up all day and half the night, looking for answers and the search had made him tired and hungry. He got up and pulled the sheets on the bed back, plopping onto it as he kicked off his sneakers. The hungry part could wait till later.

xxx

"What do we have here?" the demon said, eyes darting back and forth as he took in the odd assemblage of demons and vampires in the underground chamber. The smell of raw sewage and chemicals burned at his nose, but he ignored it. The stench of the demon was more than enough to annoy him. They were likely dozens of feet underground, and had walked through almost a mile of sewer to get to the chamber. Ulik had tracked the group down for the trio, even if it had not been the most expedient of routes. Still, one never complained to a troll. Not if he wanted to keep his limbs.

"Looks like a bunch of vermin holed up in the sewers," Scratch noted, sniffing his nose in displeasure. He only hoped that nothing had stained his suit, even if he could clean it easily with his magic. He was much more used to sophisticated battles against sorcerers and the like, though he was paid enough to not complain about it.

"Who the hell are you?" A large demon with curved horns growled, approaching the interlopers. Dim lights from above buzzed as he examined them. His hands were covered in blood, the ceremonial knife still in them. "You dare interrupt the ritual?"

Ulik simply smiled, sniffing at the blood. It was the fresh blood of a human, and he could tell that it was young. He was not impressed at the scents of the rest however. They were a mix of vampires and lower demons, years of living in the shadow of the humans had caused even the most pure of demons to lose their spirit. Even the Scourge, despite their belief in demonic purity, was pathetic, taking on the hate rituals of their most hated of foes. Too many humans had forgotten their violent and primal natures, and all too many demons it would seem.

"The mayor sends his regards," Mr. Scratch said, raising his arms and bending his fingers. He looked at the motley crew, not a lick of real magical power among them. It was almost unfortunate.

"Wait, what?" the horned demon asked, looking at the three in a whole new light. He furrowed his heavy brow in confusion. "You work for him?

"Mr. Blackout, if you would," the sorcerer said, his smile growing as the buzzing of lights increased in intensity.

"What are you-" the lead demon tried to get out, taking a few steps back.

Blackout merely concentrated, feeling the power absorbed into his center. "With pleasure."

The light disappeared completely, nobody moving for a second as if in disbelief in what had just happened. Nobody could see, or at least, nobody that was not affected by the seeing spell that Mr. Scratch had just cast. It was a massacre after that, and the demons that tried to escape soon found themselves brought down by claws and the impact of hundreds of pounds of troll flesh and metal. Energy bolts flashed through the black, burning their way into existence, offering up a few terrifying glimpses of death coming to all.

The sounds were the worst to the horned demon that found itself quickly brought down with a broken leg. It knew that its lower leg was shattered, a punch from the rock troll's metal banded hand snapping it nearly in two. He could hear screams and moans, that were all too quickly snuffed out. And the snarling of the troll, the laugh of the human magician.

The lights slowly came back, red tinted this time, as blood dripped down from the bare bulbs. The light started to heat up the fluid, mixing with the sewage and even heavier stench of death. The horned demon looked around, seeing the dead eyes of his fellow initiates. The lucky ones had them still in their heads, on their bodies or not. The rest were lying on the ground, other body parts strewn about as well. It tried to pull itself away, but its shattered leg prevented it from getting away. The demon felt itself press up against the wall, as it scampered back, and knew that there was no way out.

Scratch strode forward, kneeling down over the fallen demon. The two others flanked him, moving closer as well. "Well now, isn't this a shame."

Ulik smiled a lopsided grin, its sharp fangs breaking through its lips. Reaching over, it grasped one of the fallen demon's horns in a large hand and twisted, breaking it off with a crunch.

The demon yelled in pain as it felt the horn break, the base where it connected to his head ripped and bleeding at the rough treatment. It could barely see straight anymore and just caught the large yellowish troll put his horn into a pouch. "Damn you!"

Scratch just bent lower. "Shhhh."

"Why?" the demon could just get out, feeling itself bleed from multiple wounds. He gathered up enough strength to scream once last time, "we work for the mayor!"

"Shhhh." Scratch raised a palm, drawing power into it. The hand glowed with arcane magic as the sorcerer whispered an incantation, laying it upon the demon's chest. It burned, and the sizzle of flesh soon sounded in the air. The demon screamed and writhed in agony, but the wizard paid it no mind. Leaning in closer, he inhaled the smell of burnt meat and smiled more widely. "In the name of Lord Dormammu."

"What?" The now broken horned demon managed to get out, feeling the nerve endings in his body burn out. He almost felt cold.

"Send Zom our regards. In hell." Scratch continued, pushing harder.

The demon breathed its last, acrid smoke rising from its mouth as its lungs started to burn. The release was a blessing from the agony that its death had been.

xxx

Wesley walked into the warehouse, looking around with some curiosity at the articles of furniture in the large room. It was clear that someone lived there, at least some of the time, and from the look of some of the extraneous items, members of the group most likely spent a not insignificant amount of time there.

"You're going out tonight?" Wesley asked, approaching the young man that sat at the table at one end of the warehouse. He had managed to convince Buffy to take him there, though it was closer to repeatedly asking until she gave in. At least she was staying outside as he had requested.

Xander didn't say anything for a moment, concentrating on reassembling the gun that he had in his hand. After he had finished, he slipped in a magazine and set the safety on, slipping it into his shoulder rig. He turned around in his chair to face the Watcher. Considering, he waved a hand at the chair on the other side. "Yeah."

Wesley took the invitation and moved to the chair, sitting down. "I felt that we should discuss what happened last week. With Gwendolyn Post."

Xander nodded, without looking up.

"You executed her," Wesley stated bluntly, folding his arms over his chest as he settled in. He knew that Xander would be something of a challenge. The boy was an outsider, not accustomed to Council structure and therefore could not be expected to follow instructions. That wasn't to say that he couldn't be convinced that the Watchers should be the ones in charge there, given the vast amount of knowledge and experience that they could bring to bear. It was their duty and their right, after all.

Xander looked up and stared at him in wonderment. "Yeah, you were there too."

"I am not unsympathetic to your reasons for doing so, but it is not our purview to simply kill everything that comes our way," Wesley said, leaning forward as he uncrossed his arms and placed them on the table. "Such decisions are not yours to make."

"Amy took that blast full on, without her, we'd all be dead. You included. And there was no way that she was going to keep that shield up forever anyway," Xander replied, looking the Watcher in the eye. He wasn't about to be lectured, not by the new guy at any rate. "What did you want me to do? Try to talk her down?"

"As the Slayers are under the direction of the Watchers, so to were you when you decided to join the hunt." Wesley returned the look without squirming. From the situation that he had observed, it was important that he establish his authority as early as possible. Any show of weakness would undermine him when he gave commands to the Slayers. They could not be allowed to be influenced by such rebellion. And the boy had proven that he was more than willing to be rebellious. "You should only have acted with my direction."

"Your direction? Xander echoed, raising his eyebrows. "Your decision?"

Wesley nodded firmly. "Yes."

"You're the one that told us that she was kicked out of the Council for…what was it?" Xander asked, attempting to keep a mocking tone from his voice.

"Misuses of dark power," Wesley replied.

"Right, so you had a Watcher, with whatever Watcher training that you guys get, who had some magical power and was going all dark side with it. Am I right so far?" Xander asked, leaning back in his chair. He could tell that Wesley was challenging him, and that the Watcher might even have wanted to do it in private in case he lost. He had to admit that the new Watcher wasn't completely without his merits, intelligence, or book smarts, for one. But his lack of experience, and lack of acknowledgment of that lack of experience was the biggest concern.

"Indeed," Wesley said in acknowledgment.

Xander shook his head. "And you let her walk away. You started this mess. So don't come here criticizing me about cleaning up your mess."

"We showed her mercy, in hopes that she would learn from her mistakes," Wesley said, defending himself and the Council, though he missed the hypocrisy of that statement in relation to the demons and supernatural creatures that the Slayers acted as executioners upon. "Mercy that you were surely lacking. When does it end for you? For what slight do you consider letting someone live. You are an outlaw. Unbound by law and tradition."

Xander just looked at him, and then nodded. He supposed that he could see the point, and what he had said soon after the evil Watcher's death could have been construed as being heartless. He supposed that it had been, in its way. He had had little compunction in sparing the Watcher's life. She did, after all, toss a lightning bolt their way. There was little mercy shown there. "You haven't been around for very long, and I suppose I didn't exactly tell everybody, but here goes. A man killed, brutally, one of the closest things I ever had to a father. He did it in front of me. And I couldn't do a damn thing to stop him. I met up with again, sometime later, and I could have killed him. It would have been so easy. But, I didn't. I didn't, because I saw that he was on his way to changing."

"What's your point?" Wesley asked.

"There's a difference, between someone that wants to change, and someone that you want to change." Xander looked at the other equipment that was on the table, reaching out to pick up a knife, his fingers finding the holes in the handle. He looked up at the Watcher and spoke, "that's usually a body count, by the way."

"And you get to decide that," Wesley asked, staring at the knife's sharp edge.

"See this knife?" Xander asked, holding up the blade, the overhead lights glinting off of the points of the makeshift brass knuckles that formed the handle. "Mark 1 trench knife, stamped 1918. This one in particular has seen two previous owners and has taken the lives of thirty-two German soldiers along the Western Front and over a dozen Nazis, in well, an unofficial capacity."

Wesley watched as Xander sheathed the knife in a holder at his belt. "I don't follow."

"I remember when it was passed. Maguire, a kid from the wrong side of Brooklyn, spitting blood cause he got the bad side of a machine gun blast during a charge." Xander put his hand to his ear as if he could still hear the shouts of the living and the dying. "I still remember that whistle. Nobody wanted it to come, but they knew it always would. Then you picked yourself up out of the mud, and ran, hoping to God that you wouldn't get cut down between one trench and the next. And God knows how many men died for fifty feet that was passed back and forth a hundred times."

"How could you rem-" Wesley asked, breaking off as he saw that Xander seemed lost in thought.

"I used to be the funny one," Xander said, looking out, his eyes suddenly snapping to the Watcher. "You think I kill too easily?"

Wesley just nodded after a moment.

"Maybe I do, I suppose it's something to think about." Xander shrugged, leaning back again. "People die. More than they should. In trenches, in streets, in graveyards. The people there, they put a hell of a lot less into thinking about whether or not they should kill. All that dying and all that killing, and twenty years later it starts up all over again. Cause there wasn't enough, or because there was too much. I don't know. It's no answer, but if the alternative is having one of my friends getting killed because somebody wanted a glove that shoots lightning, I know what my choice is."

Wesley didn't say anything for a moment, thinking about what Xander had said. He had to admit that there was some merit there. Still… "That knife…that war. The triggering event was one man, deciding that it was necessary to kill another."

Xander grinned slowly. "Well, how about that."

xxx

Amadeus stood still, ignoring that wind that was whipping past him as he stood on top of the three story building. From his vantage point, his binoculars gave him a clear view of the target. He had already done the usual checking, even going so far as to check the local library for past newspapers. Microfiche evidently was not dead. "Well, isn't that unexpected."

Dropping the binoculars, the teenage boy sighed, thinking about where he had escaped from not too long ago. He had been asked to help on the identities of the men that had tried to kill him, not all of them having been caught clearly on whatever cameras that SHIELD had in place. Reaching into his pocket and pulling out a makeshift PDA, the super-genius flipped through the file photos that he had lifted from the government agency. The pictures matched, and he would not be likely to forget the bald headed leader.

"A trap then, Kirby," Amadeus said into his coat, as he put the PDA back into his pocket. His mind was already going into overdrive as he thought about the best method for achieving his goal. "But, like Master Mind Excello used to say, the first step in escaping a trap is knowing that it's there."

Amadeus looked up into the sky as his stomach started to gurgle. It was already starting to get dark, though dinner time was hours away. Thinking at his best always made him hungry, likely a result of the energy he burned in using his fall capabilities. "C'mon Kirby, gotta feed the brain. And we've got some shopping to do tonight."

xxx

If he had to say that there was one thing that was affecting him the most, it would have to be the smell. Demons weren't necessarily the cleanliest bunch at the best of times, and being surrounded by their entrails and ripped apart corpses didn't exactly add to the atmosphere. Couple that with the smell of sewage and Xander felt that he would need to take about a dozen showers to get the stench of it all off of his body.

He wondered how exactly Willy had come by this piece of information, though he imagined that there were all sorts of demons that dwelled in the sewers. Xander started to walk around, taking a few random pictures as he ventured closer to what could only be described as a makeshift altar. Some sort of old barrel served as a table, stained crimson and brown with blood, though not all of it was dried yet. Dark bits denoted that it was more than just fluid that caked the thing, likely from the bowl that had rather unceremoniously fallen off of the barrel.

"What's this now," Xander said, bending down at the overturned bowl. He reached to his belt and pulled his knife, pushing it into the minute gap between the ground and the bowl, flipping it onto its base. Some of the blood inside moved, still liquid in the cool air and dank conditions. Despite it, the carvings and color of the ornate bowl could still be made out. "Well, isn't that interesting."

Sniffing, Xander wiped the tip of his knife off and sheathed it. He didn't want to think about exactly whose blood was in that bowl, pushing the thought out of his mind. He had more important things to do. And think about for that matter, having elected to take on this job alone. Buffy and the others were out on their nightly patrol, doing what it was that they did best. He supposed that Wesley was probably with them, which was one more thing that he wanted to avoid for the moment. As much as he may not have wanted to admit, Wesley had said some things that bore thinking about. And he tended to do that best on his own.

Taking his camera out, he knew that Giles and the other Watchers would most likely want pictures of the scene. It wasn't something that they normally did, but Willy's descriptions of grisly aftermaths had gotten them all a little curious. He moved around the room as well, flipping over some of the corpses in order to capture how they had been killed, and to better allow for the identification of species.

"Hmm," Xander said, stepping back to the mouth of the chamber as he looked at the fallen bodies. It had been a massacre, and it did not seem like the demons in the room had managed to take down any of their killers. That didn't give him any happy thoughts at all.

xxx

Amadeus held his breath, trying to keep his hands steady as he soldered the microchip onto the circuit board. He had been able to work out the design in his head, being able to fully contextualize it in three dimensions. Of course, realizing that design in the real world was easier said than done. Working the last bit of solder into place, he removed the soldering iron and exhaled. He wiped his brow off as he placed the iron back into its stand, taking a look at his work. It had taken a day to get the whole thing done, though he had been glad to have something to think about besides the circumstances that brought him to that place.

Smiling, Amadeus closed the plastic casing around the completed board, snapping it into place.

"Well, that's finished." Amadeus reached over to pick up the sandwich he had purchased, taking a large bite and chewing loudly. As he sat back, his mind wandered to his family, seeing the blast in his head. One of the curses of his intellect was that he remembered things completely. He could still see the house explode, feel the heat and air move. And he could still remember feeling the same emotions that he had gone through as he watched his family die.

Feeling something nudge his foot, Amadeus looked down and smiled sadly. He picked up Kirby, propping the puppy up onto his lap. The coyote stretched out, standing on its hind legs as it licked at its friend's face. Amadeus laughed as the pup's rough tongue tickled his face. "Thanks, boy."

The puppy barked a few times, settling down onto Amadeus' lap, enjoying itself as the boy started to pet its fur.

"That's a good boy," Amadeus said, stroking the puppy and scratching its head. He looked to the blinds of the window that looked out over the parking lot of the motel that he was staying at. The sun was still bright in the sky, and from his estimation that would be the best time for his activities. He suspected that some of the people that were looking for him were out and about, looking for information from local proprietors. He remembered what he had seen back in Utah however, and hopefully would be able to see them before they saw him. "Time to go to work."

xxx

Wesley placed a blown up picture of one of the photos that had been taken of the giant demon that had been slain in the sewers onto the projector. He had spent a rather lengthy amount of time trying to identify the thing, the damage done to it hindering easy identification. Even with the help of three other Watchers, it had not been so easy. "This is Lurconis, a demon lord from what I can gather. Its name means glutton, and every thirty year a tribute is made to it by its followers."

"I guess somebody didn't want to pay up," Buffy noted, staring at the corpse of the giant snake. It didn't look any less disgusting in photos.

"Yes, indeed. While it does not have the power of an Old One, a demon lord is still quite formidable," Wesley said, fumbling a little as he changed pictures. The new one showed a bit more detail, revealing the exact damage that had been done to the thing. "It would have required a great deal of strength and ability to bring this demon down. From the evidence, I would surmise that there were at least three of them. One with a sharp weapon of some sort, perhaps claws, biological or not, as shown by these slashing wounds."

Wesley used a laser pointer to highlight the area that he was talking about on the screen. He shifted and changed photos again, this time of its upper chest and head. "And as you can see here, there is evidence of bruising that would be consistent with blunt force trauma, though it would take a very strong individual to accomplish this. From the outline, I suspect a weapon not unlike brass knuckles was used. And here, electrical burns consistent with some sort of lightning or electrical discharge. I would imagine that it would have been magically induced."

He glanced at Xander for a moment, before turning back to the image.

"So it's a good thing then?" Scott asked, mildly puzzled. He had started to go to the odd meeting of what Xander had called the Scoobies, in order to support his girlfriend. He still felt out of place, given that he wasn't much use in anything but the occasional research party. But, he felt that he should at least know what was going on in town. Especially given that his girlfriend was mixed up in it. "I mean, a demon lord, that sounds pretty bad."

"Yes, but the more important matter is who or what exactly killed it," Wesley said, looking at the teenage boy. It was worrying that the lead Slayer not only had a boyfriend, but had a boyfriend that was involved with Buffy's nightly activities. Measures would have to be taken to ensure that he did not interfere with her responsibilities, more so given what was to come in the approaching months. He supposed that pertained to a number of the others in the group as well.

Xander nodded in agreement, rather impressed by Wesley's breakdown of the situation. Despite whatever tactical or strategic or even leadership lackings the Watcher might have, when it came down to coming up with explanations on how something had happened, Wesley was actually pretty good. "It means that there's a new player in town. One with some pretty powerful muscle backing him up."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a canister of film. Placing it on the table, he pushed it to where Wesley was standing. "I got this from that thing in the sewers. You may want to develop that. It was pretty bad."

The damage dealt in the latest massacre appeared to be consistent with that done to Lurconis. Another ritual or tribute interrupted, though this time it would seem that only the followers were killed. All of this done, twice, without anybody being the wiser. No evidence except the remains. Which meant that they were not only making their presence felt, but apparently they were able to do it without attracting unwanted attention to exactly who it was doing the attacking. Quiet and professional, until it was time to go loud.

"Indeed," Giles noted, frowning. He looked at the supernaturally gifted among them; those that put their lives on their lives on an almost daily basis. "We will have to take much greater care in patrolling. It would be a disaster if any of you were to be caught unawares by whoever is responsible."

Xander frowned as his stomach rumbled; Vi had gone out to get food for the group.

xxx

Amadeus felt the front of his jacket unconsciously, noting the absence of his puppy with a sense of loss. He had grown quite fond of the little coyote, working through his grief by caring for the also orphaned creature. He supposed that he found comfort in their similarities as kindred spirits. Whatever may happen to him in the future, he knew that he would make whoever was responsible pay for what they had done.

Shifting his attention back onto the job at hand, the super-genius put the ear-plugs into his ears. It was about to hurt, a lot, but it had to be done. Reaching into his pocket, he took out the device he had made, glancing around the side of the building that he was on. He supposed that it was good luck that the strike team that had been sent to get him was staying at a motel, which indicated that Excello did not have an active facility for them to work out of.

With a quick breath, Amadeus turned the device on, wincing as the sonic emitter did its work, the sound coming from not only the device itself, but being beamed to every speaker nearby. While it played hell on his ears and sense of balance, it would prove even worse for somebody with enhanced hearing. Thank goodness that the SHIELD scientists had been able to find out so much about the men that had attacked him.

He rounded the corner, hearing the screams and moans of the people in the motel that were affected by his attack. He felt sorry for them, but there would be no permanent harm done as a result. Finding, the right door, Amadeus reached into his the front pocket of his messenger bag and pulled out a small glass jar, taking careful aim as he swayed a little. He threw it against the wooden door and watched as the pink fluid splashed up against the wood and started to bubble. He waited three seconds, and then leapt through, the pink fluid having turned to hardened porous foam in the air, transforming the door into something much more easily passed through than hard wood.

Smiling in grim satisfaction at the heavily muscled men rolling around in pain as they clutched their ears, Amadeus set about his work quickly. He scanned around the room, looking for anything of use, taking cell phones and any paperwork that he could find, shoving it into his bag. He walked over to a small desk against the far wall and smiled wider, picking up the laptop and shoving it into his bag as well. He made sure to put the flap back down; if there were any transmitters that might give away his location once he left, the special coating he had put on the bag would prevent that.

Looking around to make sure that there was nothing else of interest, Amadeus noticed the gun on the dresser and walked towards it. He picked it up, looking at the two men that were still grimacing in pain. He pointed it at one of them, noticing that neither were the bald man, but hesitated, unable to pull the trigger.

His eyes started to well up, and he clenched his teeth, as his finger wouldn't work right. "Damn it."

Intellectually he knew that it wouldn't do any good, their healing factors able to keep them from dying from a simple gunshot wound. In his heart, he knew that it would make him feel better, even if it would eat at his soul.

The choice was taken from him as he heard the device in his pocket start to beep, an indication that the emitter would soon run out of power. He dropped the gun, turning around and heading out of the hole that he had made in the door.

He ran down the outdoor hallway and headed down the staircase, though it wasn't long before the device stopped beeping, the power fully depleted. He heard men start to run after him as he ran down the street, passing by people that had previously been affected by his invention. His bag was heavy on his shoulder and his chest burned as he ran, the sun hot on his back. He missed his scooter, the machine likely still lying somewhere in the deserts of Utah. Or back at SHIELD perhaps, and he made sure to note that for future consideration.

Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed that the men he had ambushed had drawn guns, firing in his direction. They didn't seem to be all that concerned about staying incognito now, nor the welfare of the innocent people on the street. The benefit of it was that they scattered quickly though, the chaos giving him more cover.

Time seemed to slow as he glanced back to calculate the path of the bullets, noticing their trajectories, velocities and ballistic paths as they stopped in material or ricocheted off of metal. He was about to duck to his left, when a stray bullet entered into his calculations, its ultimate journey ending about fifty feet beyond the heart of a girl that had just walked out of a sandwich shop carrying a few large bags.

Amadeus veered to his right instead, colliding with the girl and pretty much slamming her up against the brick wall of the shop. The bag he was carrying hit him hard on the back and he coughed hard.

"Hey!" Vi shouted, yelling at the boy that had just shoved her, and was taking off again. She ran after him, the bags of food forgotten on the ground as she chased after him. It didn't take long for her to catch up to the Asian boy, following him into a blind alley. She had noticed the gunshots, knowing that they had been fired at the teenager who, upon wild recollection, had pushed her out of the way of the gunfire.

"No no no no," Amadeus repeated rapidly as he came up to the dead end. He had had to change his path, meaning that he had missed his clear exit. Turning around he came face to face with the girl that he had saved. She didn't look happy, or even angry at him. He moved towards her quickly, almost shouting, "you need to go."

Vi was about to respond when another man entered the alley, carrying a gun. He raised it to fire, but Vi was faster, kicking it out of his hands.

Amadeus was stunned as the redheaded girl disarmed and then flipped the gunman onto his back. It wouldn't last long though, the man likely still somewhat off as a result of the acoustic attack from minutes before. He rushed forward, grabbing the girl by the hand.

"Hey," Vi said, as she was dragged away from the gunman.

"We don't have time for that, it's not going to work," Amadeus said, urging the girl to run. He glanced behind him as the man started to get up, eyes widening as the blades erupted from the man's hands. He heard sirens as the police rushed to the scene, and turned back looking the girl in the eyes. "Trust me."

Vi merely nodded, running even faster with the boy.

xxx

Clint moaned, leaning back against the alley wall, his head throbbing in pain. He could tell that the rest of his men had been equally affected by whatever the boy had done. Admittedly he didn't see any evidence that it was Amadeus at fault, but given that he was the only one that wasn't affected by whatever had caused the debilitating headache, it seemed likely. "You okay?"

Agent Coulson nodded, the movement causing even more pain to stab through his head. "Yes. Did you see where they went?"

Shaking his head, which proved to be a mistake, Clint dragged himself up to his feet, moving his way towards the front of the alleyway, scanning back and forth. There were others in similar states, but there was no evidence of the boy that had brought him to town, or of the men that they had been monitoring in preparation for an attack. There would be no point now at any rate, given that if there were any of those guys left, they would assuredly be preparing for an attack.

"They're gone," Clint said slowly, blinking his eyes as he adjusted. He looked behind him, glad that the rest of his men were gathering themselves together. At the very least, they had not attracted any attention when they had gone down, meaning that their less than authorized presence in Sunnydale was still undetected.

He tapped his radio, triggering the channel for the rest of the men on the team. "This is Hawkeye, does anybody have eyes on the tangos?"

Clint waited in silence as he heard their various, and rather groggy reports. Nobody had any more answers than he did. Shaking his head in frustration, his shoulder still aching a little from the previous battle, he turned to face Coulson. "We need to go back and report."

xxx

The mayor sniffed and tried to actively avoid noticing the rock troll eat, instead concentrating on the only remotely sane member of the three. He had been forced to find them accommodations in a less than reputable part of town, relying on money and fear to make the proprietor keep his mouth shut and eyes turned the other way. "It seems that you have taken care of that other pesky little problem."

"Yes, Dormammu wouldn't like for another demonic uprising to interfere in the plans that he has for you," Mr. Scratch said, picking up a napkin and wiping his mouth with it. He looked up at the mayor with a smile. "However, there are other matters to discuss. Rumor has it that the town has attracted its share of protectors. More than one Slayer it would seem. Along with a rumored masked warrior that's been running around. Whatever have you been doing in your time here?"

"I can't control who decides to settle here, especially given that I have had to maintain it as a demon-friendly environment," the mayor retorted pleasantly. He had to stomach much during the City Council meetings, and this was rapidly approaching the annoyance level of those. "Those individuals are not our concern however. As long as you keep being discrete, and removing our mutual enemies, then we have nothing to worry about from the Slayers and her ilk.

"You want us to kill the Slayer?" Ulik said, tearing off a large chunk of chicken straight off of the bone with his large rough teeth. He had been mostly ignoring the conversation, the only relevant part having to do with potentially killing something.

"No," the mayor declared, looking at the troll coldly. Evidently the troll was not as knowledgeable on the Hellmouth's current circumstances than his employer, nor particularly well gifted in listening. "That would attract too much attention from her friends. Instead, I have had something else in mind."

"What would that be?" Blackout asked from a ratty couch in the connected main room. He didn't bother to turn around, instead concentrating on a fly that was currently crawling over a water stain on the wall. At least, he thought it was a water stain.

"Yes, well my upcoming Ascension will need to be planned perfectly. And given the increasing number of white hats, I need you to ensure that nothing else comes up that may interfere," Mayor Wilkins explained, concentrating on the human sorcerer. "It would not benefit any of us if the Slayers became too interested in what other happenings are occurring in town.

The troll looked at the man in confusion. "What do you want us to do?"

The mayor merely smiled. Two birds with one stone came to mind. "It has come to my attention that a certain necromancer has been resurrecting people in town. Normally this wouldn't be an issue, but the people that he is resurrecting are…not the sort of people that we like in town. It's the sort of thing that draws undue attention."

"I believe that we can remove that problem," Mr. Scratch said, smiling that evil smile of his. "It will be no trouble at all."

xxx

"We should be fine," Amadeus said, peeking out the window of his motel room. He stepped back, letting the blinds slip back into place. Once again he was glad about the information that he had obtained, having been able to use deer scent to cover their tracks. "We lost them a while ago. They won't be able to find us here."

"Who were they?" Vi asked, taking a seat on one of the beds. She looked around, noticing the computer on the nightstand and the various bits of technology and components spread out in the room. She also noticed a paper plate on the floor, with the oily remains of ground meat on it.

Amadeus didn't reply, moving over to the table and pushing some of the clutter away. He reached over to the dresser and picked up a souped-up RF detector, a large battery pack duct taped to the back of it. Taking off his bag, he placed it on the table and turned to face the girl. "I'm pretty sure that they work for the people that killed my family. They're trying to kill me."

"Why?" Vi asked, noticing the pensive look on the boy's face as he spoke about his family. It was gone quickly though, as he went about running the machine in his hand over the contents of his bag. "What's your name?"

Amadeus ran a methodical search to ensure that there were no transmitters in the devices that he had taken from the strike team. "Amadeus. Is my name."

"I'm Vi," the potential said, standing up and moving closer to the boy. He was bent over the things that he had been carrying, taking apart the cell phones and removing their SIM cards. He left the broken open phones as they were. "Why are they after you?"

Amadeus didn't say anything for a moment, looking for a card reader and picking it up, along with the SIM cards. He carried them over to the laptop on the nightstand, plugging the reader in and booting up the computer as he sat down on the bed. "Cause I'm the seventh smartest person on the planet."

"Really?" Vi asked, looking at him with some disbelief. He didn't look like much, or at least, what she would have thought the seventh smartest person on the planet would look like. "Who told you that?"

Amadeus turned to her, mouth open, but nothing came out. He looked at her, and then frowned, realizing the absurdity of the claim. "Soap company contest."

He turned away, not wanting to see her look at him. He activated the card reader and slipped in the first SIM card, running it through a diagnostic to ensure that there was nothing potentially damaging on the chip. He typed away on his computer, glancing over at the girl as he spoke, "I…I guess I should say thank you. For saving my life."

"You're welcome," Vi said smiling a little, wondering what to make of the boy. She could tell that he was in pain, but wasn't sure exactly what to do. The closest example of a boy that age that she knew well was Xander, and he was hardly the typical example of a teenager. She was about to try to say something else, when she heard a somewhat familiar noise behind her.

"Hey, boy," Amadeus said, standing up and moving towards the bathroom that his puppy had just padded out of. He picked up the coyote and scratched its head, smiling as the puppy barked softly in happiness. He moved back to the bed and sat down, placing the puppy on his lap.

"Aww," Vi said, as she caught sight of the little canine. She moved closer to the bed and sat down beside the boy. "What's his name?"

"Kirby," Amadeus said, feeling the closeness of the girl that was sitting so close to him. He forced himself to ignore it though. Kirby squirmed a little in his lap, getting out and moving onto the girl. He nudged her with his snout, and flipped onto his back.

Vi smiled as she rubbed the little puppy's belly, the coyote wagging his tail rapidly. She looked back towards the boy, who was pulling out the card from the reader and inserting in another. "We should call the police."

Amadeus shook his head, exhaling in a hiss as he found nothing of use on the SIM card. No numbers saved, and it looked like there was some programming there that prevented them from keeping numbers when dialed. He glanced over at the girl as he worked on his computer. "The police in this town are corrupt. Can't be trusted."

"What are you talking about?" Vi asked.

Amadeus stopped and turned to her. "I ran a statistical analysis on the crime rate for Sunnydale. There is no way that it could possibly be this high without people noticing. Unless there was a systematic cover-up and disinformation campaign to keep people in the dark. Logically speaking, the police would have to be in on it. At least, at the command levels. And, I would suspect, rather influential people in local government."

"I have friends who can…" Vi trailed off, not knowing exactly what to do. She still had little idea of what was going on. Still, they were expecting her back. "I should call them."

Amadeus just watched as she stood up, Kirby jumping down from her lap. He bit his lip as he thought, wondering exactly what he should do. It wasn't like he could keep her there, but he wasn't sure that it was safe if she just left. The people that had attacked him had likely gotten a good look at her. "Don't tell them where you are."

Vi stopped before she hit the talk button on her cell phone, lowering her phone and turning around to face Amadeus. "Why?"

"They could be looking for me, and I don't want attract people to this location," Amadeus explained. He frowned, thinking that maybe things would have been better if he had stayed at SHIELD. They might not be trustworthy, but it was better than being alone. Still, he believed that it was his mission alone to find out what had happened, and find justice for his family. "You probably should stay here too. They probably got a good look at you, so they might be looking for you too. I'm sorry."

Vi just nodded, somewhat in sympathy, but she raised her arm again and put the call through.

xxx

"What?" Xander said loudly into his cell phone, standing up with a rather loud clatter as his chair was pushed back. He ignored the startled looks thrown in his direction as he listened to Vi break down what had just happened. "Are you okay?"

"What is it?" Giles asked, wondering what had shaken the boy so.

Xander ignored the question, concentrating on what was being said instead. "Okay. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"What is it?" Wesley repeated Giles' previous question.

Xander looked at both of the Watchers, as he finished the call and put the phone back into his pocket. He grabbed his bag as he fished around for his car keys. "Someone was attacked earlier, Vi got caught up in it and they're hiding out in his motel room. I'm picking them up. The rest of you should stay here, check the news. It was pretty public."

"Vampires?" Wesley asked, confused as to why there would be such a public attack. He mentally kicked himself as he remembered that night had just fallen.

Xander shook his head, heading towards the door. "No, guns and general mayhem."

"Wait," Wesley called out, holding up a hand to stop the boy from leaving half-cocked. "I am in charge here, and we need to devise a plan."

Xander forced himself to stop and turned. He looked at the people in the room, finding it odd that it had come to that. It hadn't been the first time, and it likely wouldn't be the last, but he was the guy that had stood in front of an ocean of men. He had let them break upon him and he did not waver. There was no coming back from that. "Amy, you're with me. The rest of you should stay here. I don't want any of you caught in the crossfire. Sorry, Wes."

"We can help," Kendra said, louder than she usually would have been. She had become accustomed to life on the Hellmouth, and in many ways, of how quiet it had become. There were so many protectors that most demons and vampires did not do things as rashly as they once did. There would always be those that were reckless or wished to challenge them, but their combined strength was enough to defeat it. That had only at times included Xander, the teenage boy keeping himself apart from them. But, they were Slayers, and it was their duty to do so.

Buffy and Willow nodded in agreement to Kendra's statement, various vocalizations indicating that in case their expressions weren't enough of an indication.

"No, this isn't something you've been trained to deal with, Kendra." Xander glanced over as Amy came to stand by his side. He looked back at Kendra and mouthed an apology to her.

Kendra nodded, knowing that she had been more focused on fighting the supernatural than anything else. While Xander's presence had helped to cause her to think for herself, she could see the merit of his statement.

Xander turned to leave, though stopped as he heard Wesley slam a fist onto the table. It was becoming a familiar sound.

"I am in charge here," Wesley stated defiantly, waiting for the boy to turn around. It seemed that they had not come to an agreement earlier in the week. "And we will stay here until I have devised a plan."

Xander just looked at the Watcher, challenge evident on his face. He knew that there was at least a little strength in the Watcher, though little of it showed through.

"Xander, go," Giles said, stepping forward as he looked at the other Watcher with disapproval. "Quickly now."

"Bring her back safe," Nancy said, glaring at Wesley as well.

"I will." Xander nodded his thanks and headed out the door, hearing the Watchers star to argue back and forth.

xxx

"I understand," the redheaded woman said into her cell phone, putting it down onto the desk and setting it onto speaker as she slipped on Kevlar body armor. She strapped it tightly against her body, the armor a familiar weight on her body. "How is he?"

"Clint's fine," the voice from the other side said, clearly hiding some amount of amusement in his voice. "You read the file?"

Natasha slipped on a belt, tightening it, and making sure that the thigh holster was secured against her leg. Picking up long gun-metal cylinders that appeared to be made of thin tubes stuck together, she slipped them onto her wrists, tightening them. Though her firearm was much more effective in killing things, they could be so noisy at times. "Da. I know what to expect. Do you know where they have come from?"

"No," Director Fury said simply. He was following Clint's actions real-time, though it had yet to yield any significant results. "Remember, use them to find the boy. I don't want a firefight in the middle of town."

"Of course," Natasha said, walking over to the desk and picking the phone up. She closed it and slipped it into a pocket, smiling wickedly as she looked at herself in the mirror.

As if the Black Widow heeded to warnings not to take the lives of men.

xxx

"What did you think you were doing," Wesley asked, turning to face Giles, the door to the library still swaying a little. He had told the Slayers and potentials, and their assorted friends to leave, under the auspices of being safer at home. They had left with some reluctance, which disturbed him, as it was was a result of what Xander had said. Still, he accepted it for the moment, wanting to discuss matters in private with the other Watchers.

Giles just glared at the man, crossing his arms over his chest. "I have given you a great deal of latitude over the last few weeks. But, you need to remember that I am still in charge here. You are here to assist me, as the Council dictated."

Wesley sputtered, staring at the man.

"Wesley," Nancy broke in, not wanting things to erupt. She could see that their disagreements had already had their effect in front of the others, and she was glad that they were doing this in private at least. "You haven't been here very long, but you need to understand. Xander is very independent, and the more you push him now…the more he will rebel. He is much more capable than you may realize."

Wesley looked away from Giles, turning to the other Watcher. "Be that as it may, authority must be maintained. If the Council is to serve as guardian to the Slayer, and by extension the potentials, then we cannot allow one of their peers to operate as a negative influence on them. If they decide that it is okay for them not to listen to us, then we run the very real risk of having a Slayer rebel against us. A rogue Slayer is one of the most dangerous things there are, as our history has shown. Need I remind any of you of that?"

He looked around the room, wanting to emphasize his point. As a Watcher, he was not coming at this simply to enforce his will, or enforce politics alone. The history of their order was not without rebellion and bloodshed. On the Slayer's part as well as on the Watchers'. Tradition existed for an important reason, even more so because of the importance of their work.

"Wesley has a point," Diana said, sighing.

Nancy turned to the other potential Watcher, clearly surprised. "Diana!"

"I'm sorry," Diana said, shrugging at her fellow Watcher. She knew that the other woman was concerned for her charge, but in the matter of governance, emotion had to be left out of the equation. "But, Wesley is right. I have seen firsthand how rebellious a potential can be, and that is only the typical teenager acting out phase. Heaven forbid it comes to pass, but if Faith were to become Slayer, those influences that she has had in regards to her independence could easily lead her down the wrong path."

"And so she should be what Kendra was?" Nancy asked, shaking her head. "I have kept my mouth shut, but I have grave concerns. Vi has told me of Kendra's upbringing and how limited her exposure to the outside world has been. If anything, Xander's influence has been a positive one in her life. That type of life…that should not be the one that we want for the potentials. Or the Slayers."

"I think that you have become too emotionally involved in your potential's life," Wesley remarked, looking at Nancy. "You serve a purpose in her life, but you need to be ready to accept that if she is Called, she will serve as Slayer, with all the dangers that are involved."

"I think the point that you are missing," Giles broke in, "is that Buffy's unconventional nature and independence have been some of her greatest strengths. Her success as Slayer has come through the relationships that she has, including the one with Xander. Wesley, we are not saying that tradition should not be respected, but the evidence speaks for itself."

"Perhaps," Wesley said, acknowledging something of the point. "However, and the point that none of you can assert differently about, is that the Watchers must be respected. As independent as we may or may not want them to be, our authority must still be maintained, or else they will fall into chaos. Can any of you deny that?"

He looked around at the other three Watchers, none being able to directly refute the point.

"Exactly," Wesley said a little smugly, glad that they were finally listening to reason.

Nancy sighed, looking up at him. "Vi is as much a daughter to me as someone of my own blood could possibly be. And if she were to become a Slayer, I have no doubt that she would serve with honor, despite whatever relationships she may have that you disapprove of. And, if we can't trust the Slayer, the best of us, then what hope do we have for the rest of humanity?"

"This debate will not be settled tonight," Giles inserted, knowing that the situation was much more complex than either side was saying. He was the only one actually serving as field Watcher to a Slayer after all.

"Very well," Wesley said, taking a seat at the table. They had other matters to research after all. The pictures that had been taken indicated that they could have a very serious threat brewing. "But-"

"Wesley, whatever point you may have," Giles said, looking the other Watcher in the eye as he sat at the table. "Do not undermine my authority again."

xxx

"That's all you have?" Amy asked, turning her head to look at Xander. She felt nervous, but a little amped by the promise of action as well. More than that, she still felt a little tingly from what had happened to her before.

Xander just slipped the magazine back into his handgun and slipped it into his belt after he made sure that the safety was on. He looked back at her. "I have an extra mag. That and a knife. I don't think stakes are going to be very helpful right now. You know what to do?"

Amy nodded, breathing deeply to calm herself. "Keep a lookout and make sure that I'm ready with a spell."

"Yeah," Xander said, looking out the windshield of the SUV. It was dark, and he couldn't detect much, but he couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. He turned to smile at her in encouragement though. "You can do this. I know you can do this."

"Thanks," Amy said, smiling back.

Xander opened the car door as he dialed his cell phone. It only took one ring for the call to be answered. "We're here. Head down."

Closing the phone and slipping it into a pocket, Xander stepped away from the car, keeping his hand close to his belt. He couldn't see much, the streetlights poor and ill-maintained. Glancing up, he watched as Vi and the Asian boy that she had mentioned walked down the steps from the second floor of the motel. It didn't take long for them to reach him, having attempted to park the car as closely to the room as possible.

"Xander this is Amadeus," Vi said, as they reached the car.

Xander opened the rear door, ushering them into it. "Introductions later. Sorry. We need to-"

"Xander!" Amy shouted, raising her hands and projecting outwards. A fraction of a second the explosions occurred, lighting them up in swaths of yellow and red and orange flame.

Xander squinted as the flash of explosions occurred, completely enveloping them. It was almost beautiful, to be able to see the heart of fire. It didn't last long though, and he could see through fading flames that men were approaching and taking up cover positions. He pulled his weapon out, looking over at the witch over the hood of the car. "You okay?"

"Xander…I don't…" Amy trailed off, she swayed, her head and hands dropping. The shield crackled and faded a little, and she could hear the reports of gunfire as she struggled to keep the shield up.

Xander returned fire, his bullets causing bursts of shrapnel as they exploded like miniature bombs against cars and asphalt. He looked into the car to make sure that the two inside were still okay. "Stay down."

Amy breathed heavily as felt her power start to burn. She looked up, leaning against the car, as she struggled to keep her magic up. The witch could see that Xander was firing back as best he could, though what that could do against people that had some type of advanced healing power was an open question. "Xander."

Xander turned to look as he ejected the magazine from his gun, slipping a new one in. It was the only one. "You okay?"

He just looked on as she screamed, her arms flailing and her hair blown upward as if by an unfelt wind. He could see her eyes turn towards her, complete white and glowing with energy, crackling as bits of electricity leaked from their sides.

"Tauo freim!" Amy screamed out in an unearthly tone. Her hands expelled lightning bolts, huge and bright streaks of electricity that arced their way forward, digging great gouts out of the parking lot and hitting a number of their attackers straight on.

She could feel herself walking forward, pouring more and more power out of her palms. She could hear sporadic bursts of gunfire back at them, but paid them no heed.

Xander shook the surprise off quickly, looking at what remained of the force attacking them. Some were down and unmoving, though he didn't know if that meant that they were dead. Looking towards Amy, he noticed her grow unsteady, and then start to drop.

He rushed toward her, catching her before she could hit the ground. "Are you okay."

Amy's eyes fluttered, then looked up at him. "Yeah."

Xander ducked his head as a burst of gunfire was sent his way, though the other side evidently cautious given what they had just received. He returned fire, forcing one of the ones carrying a grenade launcher to duck out of the way. The shield wouldn't last for long at this rate. "Can you drive?"

"Yes." Amy nodded weakly. "But-"

"You need to get them out of here," Xander declared, his tone brooking no argument. "I'll hold them off until you can get away. You're in no shape for this. Just make sure that nobody's following you."

Amy just nodded reluctantly and got into the car, starting up the engine. She pulled out, having to go through a bush and over a curb as she did so.

Xander didn't bother to watch them leave, crouching and taking cover behind the wreckage of a van instead. There were supposed to be twelve in the team, according to what Vi had relayed, and that roughly matched with the number of men that had attacked them in the parking lot. There were a number less now, either injured or dead.

He peeked through it, aiming carefully and fired a few rounds towards the remaining men. He saw one bullet impact hard against one of the attackers, blowing his head up. That was one less for certain. Unfortunately, before he could be glad about it, the slide locked back on his gun.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Xander muttered as he dropped the gun, thinking as quickly as he could. Standing up carefully, he leapt over the burning car. Yelling as loud as he could, he strode forward. "Come at me!"

Bullet whizzed by, and the ones that were close to hitting him, Xander just swatted, his glowing hands blazing fiery paths through the sky.

xxx

Natasha waited patiently as she saw the SUV drive off. What she had just seen was astounding, but was not something she had time to think about. The gunfight that had just been waged, and was still going on, was the important matter. The boy was keeping the strike team down, his quick arrival disrupting the team's plans. They had been caught off-guard and the boy and his magical partner had been able to hold them off, allowing the target time to escape.

So she stayed, on the rooftop of the building next to the motel. She had fired a number of times, the report of her weapons disappearing in the general roar of battle, and saved the life of the so-called Iron Fist a couple of times. It was an odd name that the locals had taken to calling the super-powered individual, but from the looks of it, it was apt.

Ejecting the magazine from her MP5, she reloaded and moved closer to the edge of the rooftop.

xxx

"What the hell is that?" Garner asked, his eyes easily picking up the crazy teenage boy swatting their bullets out of his way as if they were flies. He looked around, feeling the sweat trickle down his face as he noticed that a number of the men in the team were dead. Fully dead; their advanced healing capabilities could not heal a blown-off head.

Klein didn't say anything, holstering his weapon instead. He clenched his fists, feeling his claws pop through the skin between his knuckles. It burned as it always did. He looked at the other man in his team, the only one left combat capable for the moment. "Forget the guns. We have to do this the old-fashioned way."

Garner grunted, but did as he was told, unsheathing his blades as well. They stepped out carefully, moving behind cover. Their enemy may not be using a gun, but that didn't mean that it was time to be sloppy.

"That's the way it's going to be?" Xander asked, as he watched the men come within fight range. His eyes were drawn to the blades that seemed to be coming out of their hands, the fire and streetlights glinting off of them. He reached behind his back and pulled his own blade, his fingers finding the brass holes of the finger guard in a reverse grip. "Fine. Let's do this."

Garner attacked first, slashing with his blades. It would have taken off the boy's head, had he still been there to take the strike. Instead, the blow cut through the frame of a car, bits of metal falling and bouncing on the asphalt.

Xander spun around, noting how easily the man's blades went through the car. Pulling his chi into his hands, he felt his knife come to life, as if an extension of his own body. "That's how it's going to be?"

The Iron Fist noticed with some happiness as the man that had just attacked him widened his eyes at the glowing knife he had in his hands. He swiped it at him in a quick blow, the man having to step back to avoid it.

Turning, he kicked out at the other one, the bald one, that was coming up behind him. He seemed to flow, his movements as liquid, as he blocked and attacked and counterattacked. Turning back around, he used his left hand to deflect the wrist of a slash sent his way, following it up with a punch. The pointed brass spikes on the trench knife gouged pits into the man's face, the blade of the knife ripping open his check as well.

It wasn't without cost though, as he felt knives rake across his back, scoring tears through his skin. Xander reversed, ignoring the pain, and drew his knife across his body at the bald man. He had to lean back, almost doubling over, as he avoided a slash. Getting back into it, Xander slashed his knife forward, feeling it catch on the other man's crossed blades. The glow of his blade lit up both of their faces, the bald man's eyes seeming to reflect the glow as a lion's would.

"Who the hell are you?" Xander growled, pushing against the bald man's claws, needing to use his other hand just to keep up the force. He just watched as the man grinned. Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, he dropped his left hand and punched the man in the stomach, diving and rolling to his left just as a trio of blades swiped the air where his neck was.

He spun around, watching as the two circled him. The one that he had punched and slashed just smiled, the wounds on his face closing in on themselves and healing. Xander gulped as he thought quickly on what to do.

"Now what, boy?" Garner asked mockingly, his lips curled in a cruel smile. The bruise that was forming from the punch he had taken was already healed. He had to admit though, the teenager had skills. And some type of power. Not that either would mean much against them.

"Now, I see if your healing factor will save you from bleeding out," Xander spat out, rushing forward. He lashed out with a kick, forcing man back. Spinning around, he dodged, feeling the claws of the bald man slash him in the side. Completing his spin, he thrust his fist out, catching his attacker in the neck with the heavy butt of his knife.

Xander didn't bother to follow him as he fell, rotating off of his foot and spinning into a leaping kick, catching the first attacker in the head. He pressed the attack, catching hold of the man's wrists as he tried to slash at him.

Thrusting forward, Xander broke the man's nose with his head, feeling the man try to fall back. "Brooklyn head butt. Learned that from a friend."

"Son of a bitch," Garner said, blood streaming from his nose. He yanked his hands up, trying to free them, but felt the boy let go, overcompensating.

Xander twisted around again, jabbing out with his knife in a fake to keep the bald man from trying anything as he regained his feet, then whirled around, slashing quickly. The knife blade flew through the air with a whistle, only feeling the slightest resistance as it cut through muscle tissue. He crouched and leapt up, twisting as he landed lightly on the other side of the man, kicking out at his knees. Reaching back, he thrust the knife edge of his left hand forward at the man's neck in a Burning dove chop, forcing the slit neck to open even more.

Gurgling was all the sound that came out of Garner's mouth now.

"Impressive," Klein said, smiling grimly at the sight of his own man fall to the ground. It was not what he wanted, of course, and even he wasn't sure if such injuries would kill his man, but he had to admit that it was a well-executed attack. Of course, such an attack could not be left unchallenged.

He leapt forward, claws extended, almost growling in animalistic fury at the destruction wrought upon his team. He managed to dive under a slash of the knife, kicking out and catching the boy in the mouth with the heel of his boot.

Xander's head snapped back as he took the hit. He swiped his knife forward, feeling the bald man slide past it, claws sliding up his upper chest towards his shoulder. He adjusted, his knife held out in front of him as he moved laterally. The other man slashed towards him, and he swiped his knife across, feeling it catch the bald man's arm as he slipped past his side.

It wasn't quite enough though, and claws erupted through Xander's sides, narrowly avoiding any major arteries, causing him to scream in pain. Clenching his teeth, Xander twisted, feeling the claws slice through muscle as he reached back and slammed the heavy butt of his trench knife down onto the other man's skull. He felt the reverberation through his hand and back up his arm, the claws in his torso slipping out.

Xander twisted as he fell, managing to stay on his knees as he stopped. The other man had fallen as well, stunned by the attack. He stared the bald man in the face, feeling blood drip from the six slits in his sides.

Klein reached back and slashed downwards, the six tips of his claws flashing in the night as he thrust out to end the life of the boy that had proven to be more than just a nuisance.

Xander lifted his left arm up, screaming as he took all six blades in his forearm. He caught them, then slashed out with his right hand, the knife slitting the bald man's throat, blood spurting out as the carotid artery was sliced. The sharp claws pulled out of his arm, up though through the top, splashes of blood splattering the ground as they went. Grasping his arm, Xander could feel his blood seep through his hand, not being able to clench the arm very tightly with his right hand because of the spaced finger holes of his knife.

Dragging himself forward, Xander pulled himself up reaching back with what remained of his strength, pulling more of his chi into the blade of his knife, causing it to glow brighter. He slammed it down hard through the bald man's eye, the strength of the blow too much for the man's head.

Coughing, Xander got to his feet and swayed forward, blood and other matter dripping off of his face. He managed to make it to a clear spot of the parking lot, before slumping down to his knees, exhausted. He forced as much of his chi as he could through his body, attempting to heal his wounds, or at least keep them from killing him.

Hearing a sound behind him, Xander twisted and fell onto his back as he saw one of the men from the strike team approach. It wasn't one of the two that he had fought blade to blade, this one probably needing that long to heal, given the blood smeared on his face and the damage done to his body armor.

Smith grinned, pulling up the submachine gun that he had found, pulling back the charging handle and aiming it at the man that had held them off. He smiled even more widely as his finger moved to the trigger.

Xander dropped the knife from his fingers, sliding it forward and grasping the knife's tip, when he heard a not so faint sound, like a zipper opening up. Spurts of blood erupted from the man in front of him, impacts causing his body to shake as armor piercing bullets hit him in the chest, neck, and ultimately head. The would-be killer dropped down, head opened up by the gunfire.

Turning his head, which was pretty much all he could do, Xander saw a figure on the roof of the motel. Something that he hadn't noticed previously. Wavy red hair reflected the natural and artificial light, and he could tell that it was a woman. Her face was obscured in shadow though. He just grinned and chuckled. "You couldn't have done that earlier?"

The figure said nothing, merely turning and fading away, the vibrant color of her hair the last thing to disappear.

Xander just sighed, hearing sirens approach, police finally coming. He struggled to his feet, still clutching his arm, as he turned to rush off, only stopping to grab his fallen gun and sheath his knife.

xxx

Natasha smiled a little as she thought about the teenage boy, or Iron Fist, she should probably start thinking of him as. It seemed that that strike team wasn't the only one with enhanced healing powers, given the injuries that he had sustained. Not to mention his rather skillful abilities. She imagined that he could give her a run for her money in the hand to hand department as well.

Pulling the cell phone from her pocket, Natasha dialed Nick's number, her smile falling as she remembered what had happened to Amadeus. Still, at least he was safe, and through tailing the Iron Fist through the night, she knew where the target was hiding out. "Nick, it's me. I know where the boy is."

"Good," Nick said brusquely, reading over the JARVIS-generated real-time transcription of the local PD response to what had happened in Sunnydale. From the sounds of it, not all of the men had been killed, the bodies being taken. He would have to send in a team of his own to secure the blood evidence that remained, but that was easy enough with his clearances. "You did good."

"He's protected though," Natasha continued, slipping out of her body armor. "I don't imagine that you could snatch him easily. Unless you want me to do it."

Nick turned to look at the phone, considering. "No. I think this will require a more delicate touch. We need him to want to come in."

"Alright," Natasha said, slipping off her t-shirt. The motel room was cool, but it was something she was used to. All she wanted now was a long hot shower. One of the simpler pleasures that work for the Red Room had denied her.

"Is there anything else?" Nick asked.

Natasha bit her lip for a moment as she remembered all of what she had seen. "There is another one that you should know about."

xxx

Author's Note: I linked a few posters for the latest story in my profile. Thanks for reading and reviewing.


	5. Chapter Four: Weapon Plus

**Chapter Four: Weapon Plus**

"Don't drip on the carpet," a voice called from the doorway, sarcasm biting lightly. It was less than it normally would have been, but it was the middle of the night. A little annoyance was natural, though he was surprised by how little it actually was. She wasn't exactly the sort of woman that anyone wanted to annoy.

Xander kept himself from twisting around, not wanting to tear the wounds back open, nor dislodge the gauze that he had just finished tying around himself. He had lost quite a bit of blood, and it would take some time before he had enough strength to do more than quicken the clotting and lightly seal the wounds. They still seeped though, and the patches that he had taped to himself would more than likely need to be replaced before the night was through.

The run over there had been a task in and of itself, between keeping away from the cops as well as trying to avoid leaving a blood trail. His ruined shirt had helped with that, the remains now deposited in the trashcan next to the toilet. But, it had also meant that he had had to avoid populated areas. One look at him, and it would have been obvious that things weren't on the up and up. Couple that with the events of the last few days, and most people would be a little more observant than would have been good for him.

Adjusting the tape, Xander turned around, noticing that the woman looked as good as she always did, even though she had been woken from bed. She looked irate as well, which was probably something she had honed over her years as an attorney. It was a good thing that he wasn't there just to chat. "Yeah, well you are on retainer. You can afford it."

Lilah rolled her eyes, and walked further into the bathroom, sniffing a little at acrid scent of disinfectant. "Curse my luck for living closest."

Xander smiled, walking over and taking the t-shirt that she was holding. He didn't want to know exactly where it was from. "Thanks."

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" Lilah said, stepping back to give Xander room to put the shirt on.

"Got jumped outside of a motel." Xander grimaced a little as shots of pain went up his sides, at least the shirt fit though. He felt a few of the wounds open up a little more, seeping more blood into the gauze patches that he had placed over them. He still didn't know what the men that had attacked him were, but given their metallic nature, he doubted that they were natural born killers. "Linked to that thing this afternoon. Speaking of which, you know something of magic, right?"

Lilah nodded, knowing that Xander had gotten himself into trouble again. "What of it?"

"You ever hear of someone jumping in magical power?" Xander asked, stepping back and leaning against the polished granite sink. He had managed to get a hold of the others, and Amy and Amadeus had made it to safety. Though the degree to which they were safe was still in question. "Like a lot?"

The lawyer considered the question. Arcane knowledge and the law mixed around in her head. She remembered everything, a necessary talent at Wolfram and Hart. "Isn't that something that you should be asking your Watcher friend?"

Xander shrugged, regretting it as he did so. "I'll get to that. I figure you might know stuff that the Watchers don't."

"I can check," Lilah said, smiling a little, at least he was learning something. But, that could wait for later. "Tell me what happened."

"Like I said, got jumped. Got pretty banged up, but you should see the other guys." Xander explained. It could have been worse, but it didn't do to dwell on that. "Got the kid out, so job well done all around. But…"

Lilah knew that it had likely been worse than he was letting on. She had heard the news, wondering whether she should chalk it up to normal Sunnydale hijinks or if it was something larger. It didn't surprise her that Xander would have found himself involved, as infuriating as that could be. She had no illusions that his status helped protect her from Wolfram and Hart, contracts or no. Of course, his constant need for heroics did keep her busy. As it was, her legal eagle skills had not been extremely needed as of late, and she was loathe to open up her own shingle just to defend some penny-ante drug dealer or thief just to keep herself busy. "So you left a few liters of blood behind at the motel. Which is probably being combed over by forensics as we speak."

Xander just looked at her, and then smiled. "Well, that's what I have you for. Besides, I've watched CSI. They need something to match it to, don't they? They don't know who I am."

The lawyer wasn't amused or impressed by the boy's knowledge of bad television dramas. "Unless that motel had a security camera. Or there were cameras anywhere on the street. Or someone got a good look at you as you were fighting it out in the middle of a parking lot."

"Oh, right," Xander replied, smile dropping.

Lilah sighed, running a hand through her only slightly mussed hair. "Idiot."

xxx

"We could have used you earlier," Clint said, taking a seat at the desk. He leaned back, watching as Natasha put a small handgun together, placing it behind her back. Multitasking, he was also admiring the view, though he was still a little irked at what had gone down.

Agent Coulson was still locking down the scene with the local PD, making sure that the things that they wanted kept secret were kept secret. It hadn't taken much, given their affiliation, but as Coulson had told him, the locals usually needed a little nudging. As it was, he was just happy to be debriefing the rogue spy rather than handholding some fat police detective with a doughnut habit that didn't want to be called out in the middle of the night.

Natasha smiled as she turned around, knowing that the SHIELD agent had been checking out her ass. She supposed that she had some feelings for him, though it might be more like those of her namesake to their mates. "I'm not here for the boy. Consider this a favor. Nick thinks that he's important enough to make sure that nothing else goes off-plan. He sent me to make sure that you didn't screw it up."

"Yeah well, Amadeus is proving a little harder to handle than I thought. He's got some smarts. And a hell of a lot guts. More so the latter I'd say." Clint shook his head, smiling a little. He recognized the slightly humorous chiding tone in the woman's voice. Of course, he had to give the boy credit, he had gotten pretty far on his own. Despite the problems that it had ended up causing all of them. Amadeus was plenty smart, but wisdom was something learned over time. And something that came hard to those that thought they knew what they were doing in the first place.

"So what now?" Natasha asked, grabbing a jacket from the bed and slipping it on. She was still technically on mission after all, and despite tracking Xander down to what could loosely be described as a safehouse, she was still supposed to make sure she knew what he was doing. For all they knew, he could be getting ready to bolt, or amping up for a major fight.

Clint shrugged. "We know where he is. The guys are en route, they're ready if those super-soldiers try anything. I figure they'll lay low though. Given what just happened."

He leaned forward and smiled a little darkly. "Wouldn't want to be them right now."

Natasha didn't know if that was the best way to handle it. Especially given the abilities that she had seen. America was considered to have the greatest defense technology in the world. If some foreign power had already developed working super-soldiers, it changed the playing field dramatically. "Is that the way you want to play it?"

"No." Clint shook his head, drawn out of the small moment of joy. "Best plan we got right now though. We don't know who's in play right now. We're still tracking down the Excello angle. Seeing if it's real, or chasing rabbits. I don't want to try to grab the kid either; best if he comes in on his own. If those two are as powerful as you say…"

Natasha still wondered the exact origins of the powers that she had seen. One was magical in nature obviously, the other was too hard to tell. In her time with the Soviets she had seen a number of potential project proposals, both authorized and less so. Some of them had even gone so far as to make it into the design stage, but the lack of money and resources at the time had limited what could be developed. Most, like Anton Vanko's, were simply dropped despite their progress, their progenitors usually suffering the same fate. "They are."

"Magic," Clint said, still half-way thinking it was stupid. He even felt a little dumb saying it aloud. But, that's what it was. "And the other one?"

"Too early to say," Natasha replied simply, gauging his skills against her own. He definitely had training, and some sort of biological enhancements. The origin was a mystery. Magic, or technology, like her. Perhaps even another escaped project. Kindred. "Could be magic, but could be more. I know that there were attempts to meld magic and robotics in the past. Though cybernetics was something that you Americans were ultimately better with."

"Or a natural ability," Clint remarked, thinking about his own still as yet to be fully explained origins. Apparently such things weren't as unknown as had previously been thought. The tabloid stories of psychics and other such aberrations of nature may not have been so far from the truth as most people thought. From what Nick had told him, some of the stories were actually plants to cover up the even more fantastical truth. "Natural born ass kicker."

It'd have to wait until the blood test. Hopefully, like that strike team, the forensics would give them some indication on what the erstwhile power was.

"Are you asking me if I think that you could take him?" Natasha asked, a smirk playing at the edges of her mouth.

Clint just grinned back at her. "And if I was?"

"There's more than one way to win a fight," the Black Widow replied, her smile widening.

xxx

"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, you had to walk into mine," Xander said, a little sarcastically as he walked into the library. He had laid low and had spent the night on Lilah's couch, the beginning of naughty thoughts threatening to intrude as he drifted off.

"Xander," Vi said with a mixture of gladness and worry. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Xander assured her, moving towards the central table. He noticed that a small puppy was playing underneath it, near Amadeus' feet. Yong was there too, keeping a wary eye on the smaller canine. The larger dog looked for all the world like someone that was quite embarrassed and annoyed at what another member of his biological family was doing.

Scanning up, Xander looked across the table as he sat down, seeing the worry that was evident in Jenny's eyes. Worry that was intentionally lessened on her face, as it had to be. He just looked back at her. It was all that he needed to do. All he could do.

"Alright," Xander said, looking away and towards the Watchers at the table. He noticed that the other girls weren't there. He did wonder at times where they went when they weren't at the increasingly crowded meetings. He kind of wished that he could skip more of them himself, but this one was rather important. "I suppose you want to talk about what happened."

"Yes," Giles said, glad that the boy was okay. "The news coverage as been woefully lacking in details. I assume that the police do not know about your involvement?"

Xander nodded, keeping his worry off his expression. It wouldn't help to worry them all until he had an idea of what might be coming. "I have Lilah looking into it. Seeing what evidence they're coming up with. Hopefully there's nothing there, but we can't be sure yet."

"It was sloppy," Wesley commented, clearly irked at the situation. Not only had he been overruled, but the situation had spiraled out of control, threatening to have their existence thrust into the world. "And you very well could have exposed yourself. Do you have any idea what that means?"

Xander turned and stared the man in the eyes. "It means that there's at least one person alive right now that may not be otherwise. And here I thought that that was the business we were in. Or were you only content to play protector to the world when it meant you didn't have anything to lose? I don't recall you volunteering much for the fisticuffs. Lead by example?"

"It's not going to happen," Vi inserted, wanting to diffuse the situation before it came to blows and Xander punched the Watcher's head off, literally. She looked over at the boy sitting next to her. "Tell them."

"Uh," Amadeus said, looking between Vi and the rest of the group. He was still a little sheepish at what had happened, dragging them all into a situation that he had partly caused. He was beginning to realize just how big a mistake running off had been. In retrospect, he had made quite a few mistakes in doing the first thing that his big brain thought up. "It's something that I found out while I was researching the town. The crime statistics here don't match the response that an American city with your population and demographics would have given the amount of crime that you have. Especially the violent crime and missing persons numbers."

"Meaning what?" Xander asked, taking the first real look that he had at the teenager. Amadeus was younger than he was, by a little bit at least. Still, it was clear that there was something going on upstairs; Amadeus had the look of someone that knew he was the smartest guy in the room.

"Someone's covering up what goes on. Murders, the disappearances, it's swept up and doesn't even hit the local news channels," Amadeus continued, looking around the room. He tried to get a sense of who exactly was in charge, but it was a little hard to tell at times. Xander had obvious authority, though the older man with glasses had power as well. "Someone's pulling the strings."

"Well, this incident certainly didn't get covered up," Wesley inserted with irritation, perhaps overplaying things a little. "It's likely that the story's going to be around for more than a single news cycle. I will contact the Council and advise them of the situation; they have influence with such matters. Until then, we'll sit tight and make ourselves as invisible as possible. That includes you, Xander."

"Yeah, well, I'll try," Xander didn't know how much he meant it, but it was good advice. He continued to look at Amadeus and shrugged. Standing up, he spoke, "c'mon, let's talk."

He didn't bother to ask for permission, or for Amadeus to acknowledge the request and comply. Instead, Xander just left the library, stepping out into the deserted hallway.

xxx

"What are your orders?" the man said calmly into the phone, suppressing the urge to scratch at the gauze patch over his left eye. Or rather what was left of his eye. He had managed to get taken out early in the battle, his eye blasted less than cleanly out of its socket. It was gone, and no amount of enhanced healing would bring it back. Though the wound had healed, it still hurt like a bitch.

He was angry, both at himself as well as the ones that had put him in that position. He was one of the few that were still left alive, the boy proving to be more difficult to handle than previously anticipated. And he had managed to meet up with even more people that had their own special set of abilities.

Calling it in to their leader was difficult, and he imagined that the Mandarin may want to take it out on the messenger. It was their fault, but they had been unprepared to deal with the help that the boy had managed to find. It was unlikely that they were working for SHIELD, giving the lack of backup that the two had. But, it was hard to completely blame themselves for something that they had had no intel about and therefore no reason to expect. Of course, it was still an excuse.

The Mandarin's irritation was clear over the phone line, though also contained. "I want you back here as soon as possible. Make sure that you wipe all trace of your presence in Sunnydale, as well as all trace of Excello's presence in that city. This cannot lead back to me. I will have arrangements made for your extraction by the time that you are ready to depart."

The man briefly wondered if he was leaving the United States alive. It would be a moot point though, if the Mandarin truly wanted him dead. "Yes, sir. And the boy?"

The Mandarin leaned back in his office chair, looking out over the view of the city. "It would be pointless to throw more men at this. To jeopardize our secrecy over this one individual is foolhardy, and would be more waste than benefit. SHIELD is alerted to our presence more than enough. I see no need to chance further exposure. Just make sure to erase all evidence of your involvement in this matter. They win this round."

"I understand, sir," the man said grimly, frustration evident in his voice. He was itching to get a chance at that boy again. This time without him getting taken out early. But, orders were orders. And the Mandarin had to be obeyed.

"Good," the Mandarin replied curtly, turning his chair around. This was only one of a myriad of operations and projects he had going on all over the world. "And Aaron, don't fail me again."

Putting the phone down without a response or goodbye, the Mandarin just stared out over his office, lost in thought. He would have to remember to keep an eye on the boy. He may not be able to risk making a move again at the present moment, but that did not mean that the risk in moving against the boy would always outweigh the benefit. He had time, and a long memory.

One thing was clear though, the strike team had been inadequate to deal with the threat in Sunnydale. Though they still had their purpose, it was clear that he needed more advanced soldiers to deal out the brute force that would undoubtedly be necessary in the future.

xxx

"So, what are we supposed to do with you?" Xander turned, facing the other teenager. The hallways echoed a little, making it feel a little strange, but he had been in those corridors by himself long enough to ignore it. The thrill of being in school illicitly had long since lost its appeal.

Amadeus looked around, his mind going back to his relatively carefree days back in high school. He missed it. Not just school itself, which he rather enjoyed, but the normalcy of it all. "You're the leader, hunh?"

Xander shrugged, it probably wasn't completely accurate, but it was more involved than he wanted to go into. Or think about for that matter. "Yeah well, the places that life takes us. I guess we all find ourselves in places we didn't expect. You have somewhere to go?"

"Not really," Amadeus said, not exactly lying.

Xander just looked at him, knowing that the teen was holding something back. "Vi almost took a bullet because of what happened here. I ain't saying that's your fault. But, I put one of mine in harm's way to get you out. I took hits for you. Look, it's part of the gig, but you need to be straight with me. You owe us that. You owe her that."

Amadeus hesitated, turning as he heard the door to the library swing open. It was just Kirby nosing his way out, looking for him. He stepped over and scooped the puppy up, cradling him in his arms. He knew the feeling. The teenager looked up at Xander. "They killed my whole family. I can't just drop this."

"They know you're here. They set you up to get you here. And you don't even know who they are. However far you've gotten, they're still a step ahead," Xander said, knowing that Amadeus hadn't exactly answered the question. "What do you think you're going to do? What do you think you'll be able to do?"

"I'll think of something," Amadeus replied, a hard expression on his face. He still had the data from the computer and SIM cards that might bear fruit. He wasn't at a complete dead end.

"Not like this," Xander said, voice softer in sympathy and at least a little understanding. "I know what it is to lose someone like that. And I'm not saying that you should let it go. But, this way, is not the way. You're just going to end up getting yourself or others killed. That wouldn't be what your family would want for you."

"I know," Amadeus said after a moment, his eyes narrowing as they started to water. "I just…I got nothing else."

Xander sighed, shaking his head. He remembered the taste of vengeance, bitter yet sweet all at the same time. It could be addictive. "That's not true. But, you need to figure out what it is exactly that you do have."

Amadeus looked away, sniffing a little. "And what? I drop it and what? They still come after me. And I still end up dead."

"Look, I know a place I can get you. Far away where I doubt even these guys could find you. But, you go there, and that's it. You leave this behind. And you don't come back. Ever." Xander knew that it wasn't exactly his offer to make, but it was one that would definitely keep him alive. He also knew that it probably wouldn't be enough. "So you got to make a choice. You either get out, or you stay and look for whatever vengeance you can get before they get you. And I promise you, the only way that ends is bloody or sad. I ain't seeing another option here. You're the smart one, you have a door number three?"

Amadeus was tempted by the idea of running and staying gone. But, he knew that he couldn't just drop it. And that Xander was right as well. He couldn't be that selfish. Not anymore, not after almost getting these people killed. "After Utah, I was taken in by the Strategic Hazard Intervention, Espionage and Logistics Directorate. They said they'd help, but I didn't…I don't know, I guess I didn't trust them. Thought I could do better on my own. So, I ran."

"SHIELD," Xander said, the hint of a smile on his lips. It was a little ironic he supposed. They certainly got around. "You don't trust them?"

Amadeus shrugged, hedging his opinions. They probably don't trust him anymore either. "The ones I met were okay. But, I don't know if they wanted me there to help find the guys responsible, or if they wanted me to start thinking stuff up for them."

"You got out," Xander pointed out. The thought occurred to him that his mysterious savior may have been linked to SHIELD. Which had its plusses and its minuses. Still, he was alive, and that was all that counted for the moment. "Look, you being here doesn't work. It puts us all in danger. I can't tell you to leave, but SHIELD more than likely knows that you're here already. You say they did you a solid, it might be the only place you can go right now."

"I don't know if I can trust them," Amadeus replied stubbornly.

"You have to trust someone," Xander noted, though he knew that Amadeus was already halfway to convincing himself. "Besides, you got out before."

Amadeus reached into his pocket with a free hand, Kirby squirming and jumping down from his grip. He pulled out a worn and folded business card and looked at it. He had lifted it while he was making his escape. He didn't know why he had kept the thing, but he had done it. Maybe subconsciously he knew that SHIELD was where he needed to go. It wasn't like he could ever go home again. "Yeah, I guess."

"Amadeus," Xander said, waiting for the other boy to look at him. "I don't know what to do here. I can barely keep everything together here as it is. I want to help, but there's only so much I can do, and it's not my choice. So you need to be the one to make this decision."

Amadeus just nodded. "You're pretty smart yourself."

"Really not," Xander replied flippantly.

xxx

"Boy's coming in from the cold." Agent Coulson said, putting his phone down on the desk. "Meeting in the park tomorrow. Three o'clock."

"That feels anticlimactic," Clint chuckled, shaking his head. He was getting antsy with the waiting and not being out there. "But, I'll take it."

"It's a setup, I'm sure that whomever was helping him last night will be at the meet," Coulson continued, glad that things were working out. Given the dangers that they routinely encountered, he considered himself lucky that the danger would soon be over. While he did not shirk his duty, only a fool looked for a fight.

He had managed to convince the local police to let SHIELD handle the investigation. Agents were going through the motions, but it was mostly cover to give them time to analyze the blood and other evidence of the two new players in the midst. While they still needed to find out who sent the strike team as well as who the members were, that was a more protracted concern.

"Dangerous town," Clint remarked, wondering how exactly things were so unnoticed. The story had been covered up, and his latest ventures out revealed that the citizens of Sunnydale had quickly gotten over what had happened.

A gunfight in the middle of the day, and apparently another in the dead of night and nobody cared. It didn't make any sense to him. He'd seen what such common occurrences could do to people firsthand. Central Asia, a few African countries, and even a few South American ones that he wasn't supposed to talk about. Car bombs and assassinations in broad daylight and throats slashed in the middle of the night. There was usually a tenable fear or at least suspicion in the air. A tense feeling, which was sorely lacking in Sunnydale. It was like dealing with a pack of lemmings, or cows that couldn't see the blades around the corner.

He idly wondered what the night would bring.

xxx

"Ye're not selling anything are you?" the elderly man in his mid-sixties asked, looking suspiciously at the rather well-dressed man at the door. He narrowed his eyes a little, getting a bad vibe by the man. It was partly the man's rather large smile, but there was something else as well.

"Not at all, Mr. O'Toole," the man said, still smiling. He was alone, which wasn't necessarily smart in Sunnydale, but he hardly needed to worry. Especially about the old man that had answered the door and that was now fidgeting a little too much for simple dislike for solicitors. He wondered if the minor power could even see into the beyond. "I've been sent-"

The elderly O'Toole said nothing, instead slamming the door and twisting around as fast as he could. He was no longer as spry as he once was, so he had hardly made it halfway to the foyer closet before the door was kicked in. He grasped the closet door's doorknob, but before he could open it, he was picked up and forced against the wall of the connecting living room.

Nicholas Scratch ventured in carefully, his arm dropping as he let go of the spell that he had just cast. He moved toward the living room, feeling the bits of power that the necromancer had. It was almost pathetic, but he had his instructions. He twisted his head to his shoulder, but didn't keep his eyes off of the wizard that was trying to get to his feet. The necromancer had been slammed hard and had fallen onto the couch, cushioning the fall, but only by a little. "Blackout, check it."

The half-demon hybrid didn't bother responding as he entered the house, though he did walk to the closet and open it up. He checked it from top to bottom, digging through winter coats, boxes of shoes, and various pieces of clutter. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for. Turning around, Blackout held an intricately carved piece of wood, the arcane and dark magic inherent in the object almost staining it black, for those that had the eyes to see. "Magic stick."

Blackout strode forward towards Scratch, casually snapping the thick wood in two, glowing sparks of yellow and red bursting from both splintered ends as it broke. He tossed them aside contemptuously, the magic fading away from the enspelled wood. "Unmagic stick."

"What do you want?" O'Toole managed to spit out, feeling the pain in his back. He grit his teeth as he moved, knowing that some bones were cracked, if not broken. He wouldn't let it stop him though.

Scratch leaned over the injured man, turning his head slightly as he pondered the elderly man still try to get to his feet. He was a fighter, that one, though it would do him no good. "Spirited."

"What do you want?" the necromancer asked again, glaring up at the wizard. He could feel the waves of power coming off the other man, this was the end. But, he had no plans at going out quietly.

Concentrating, the sorcerer raised his hands and weaved his spell, ignoring the questions. He whispered the words of power as he worked his dark magic. It did not take long for the incantation to be realized and corporealized, the necromancer bursting into brilliant red flames. It started to spread, the carpet burning as Scratch stepped away, back towards the foyer. The screaming was pleasant in its way, but he would have little chance to enjoy it. This one was all business. "It's time to go."

Blackout smiled as he watched the flames grow, his teeth glinting as the fire cast odd light onto his face. His nostrils flared a little as he smelled the burning flesh. The char smelled particularly delightful, though he knew that he would have no chance to partake. A pity.

The screams had stopped by now, the necromancer dead, but they had been the cause of some small amount of joy for the sadistic demon, and that would have to be enough. It was unfortunate that he did not have more time to revel in it, but he had a job to do, and his employer did not stand for failure.

The two men walked out the door, smoke billowing out after them. The fire would grow large and hot, and consume the house, but would die out, no evidence left for its creation. They caught up with a towering figure, in a tan trenchcoat and hat. It was laughable cover, but the magic weaved throughout the cloth allowed passersby to ignore the fact that the figure was really a large rock troll.

"Time to depart," Scratch remarked, turning his head at the vision of Ulik pocketing what looked to be a jaw, flesh and tendons still hanging from where it had been ripped off of its previous owner's head. He could delight in the pain and torture of others, but such grisly souvenirs were so unseemly. It was a wonder why Lord Dormammu tolerated such behavior. But, it was not his place to question their leader and employer. That was a sure way to get replaced.

xxx

"She looks calm," Xander said, watching with some concern as Amy sat in a meditative pose. He recognized it himself, having used it a number of times. It had its uses, though he found his increasingly troubled of late. He glanced over his shoulder, leaning heavily on the metal railing. "What do you think?"

He turned back to watch the blonde teenager, still floating in the air, swaying slightly though without strain. Something that he knew that she had previously been unable to do. Levitation and then flight, or so he had heard. Both of which weren't supposed to be particularly easy, especially for someone that wasn't a natural-born witch. It concerned him, on top of everything that he had to worry about.

"She is freaking out," a voice carried from the room the boy was standing in front of. "She may not be showing it now, but she is freaking out about what's going on."

"Any idea what is going on?" Xander asked, straightening up and walking into the makeshift bedroom. Jenny was sitting at the desk, going over a few books. As far as he knew, there was nothing in there that would explain it.

"I have a hypothesis," the gypsy said, somewhat reluctantly. The lack of information was frustrating her, which more than likely increased her apprentice's apprehension. "The Glove of Myhnegon. She blocked it."

"Yeah," Xander said, nodding as he moved forward and sat down on the bed. He sank in a little and sighed. "Took a bolt, full blast. Hell of a thing. You think it's connected?"

"It's possible," Jenny answered, turning around. She looked at her boyfriend with concern. She was the teacher, in more significant ways than for Sunnydale High. And what was happening to Amy was her failure as a teacher. "The power of the glove created some sort of connection that allowed its magical energy to be transferred into her. It wasn't deflected, or at least not all the way. It was absorbed."

"Lilah's had similar thoughts. But, she's concerned," Xander said. He checked his watch, knowing that it would soon be time to take Amadeus to his meet. And that was a whole other thing that he had to worry about. Not to mention Vi.

"Dark magic," Jenny didn't need him to say it. "She's worried that it could corrupt."

"Could it?" Xander asked, wondering when it had come to pass that he trusted Lilah more than asking members of the Council. Although it was less trust and more paranoia. At least with Lilah he knew where he stood. Which was to say in front, to avoid any potential daggers.

Jenny shook her head in uncertainty. "I don't know. Normally, magic's neither good nor bad. It's the use or misuse of it that matters."

Xander could sense an exception coming on. There seemed to be way too many of those in magic. "But?"

"But, it's not that simple," Jenny said, explaining as best as she could. "Magic can have…call it a flavor. The more negative emotions or dark acts that go into it, the spell or artifact or whatever takes on that flavor. A powerful enough witch could blunt that. But…"

"But, you don't know if the anchovies on the Myhnegon magical pizza are going to give her heartburn." Xander smiled through his teeth. He remembered how much of a pain Amy's mother had been. Not to mention that the young witch had had her own brush with the dark side of the Force.

"It's impossible to know. And even if we did, it doesn't mean that Amy can't overcome that influence," Jenny continued. She knew that her student was strong and capable. However, she also knew that the young witch could be impetuous and reliant on her emotions. Looking at it with clear eyes, she knew that Amy could go either way. Another of her own failings.

Xander sighed silently and lay back on his bed, staring at the girders that crossed the ceiling. "I suggested we kill her once. When her mother had pulled a Freaky Friday. I said we should cut her head off."

"Xander…" Jenny said, not knowing what to say.

Xander didn't respond to his name, staring out into space. "I have these thoughts. Even before….Orson. I was willing…I was always willing. But, she's one of us. And so we watch and we wait. And maybe in a month. Or a year. Or ten years, I have to kill a friend. I have to kill another friend."

"It's a burden, an unfair one," Jenny remarked softly. "And I wish that you didn't have to bear it, but you see people and events and sacrifice. You see everything."

"I don't see everything," Xander rebuked, sitting up. He stood up and walked over to one of the shelves in the room. "If I did, there'd be less people dead."

"But that's not going to happen. No this time." He turned and looked at her. "If I believe in anything I believe in you. You aren't failing her."

"How…?" Jenny asked.

"Well, maybe I do see some things." Xander just smiled at her. "You're a great teacher. You were for me, and you are for her. I'd be a hell of a lot more messed up right now if it wasn't for you."

His faced turned serious again as he turned back quickly, getting back to business. It was time to go. It was time to play in traffic.

"Xander, you know you're not alone," Jenny said, frowning, catching he change in mood that he had tried to hide. The melancholy could take him at times, make him much more dour than he normally was. Some of the time, she wasn't quite sure if it was all his own feeling, or if there was still a little too much Orson in there.

She headed to the doorway, needing to continue her lessons with her student. "I'll always be here for you."

"My dad's been…well, he's been less of a dick than usual. Thanks for what you said to him," Xander said, craning his head around and smiling at his girlfriend. "What's happening with Amy…I know that you'll be able to figure it out. And I'll be here to help you, well, in whatever way that I can. And I…well, you know."

"You're welcome," Jenny replied, knowing that it was a real smile this time. His words did have their impact as well. "And you did help me with my uncle."

Xander turned back, pulling a gun and checking the magazine. He put the safety on and slipped it into his waistband behind his back. He grabbed a knife as well, making sure that it was hidden. He started to walk to the doorway, but stopped and turned around midway there, looking at a clear crystal pyramid that held some books in place on the middle shelf. It seemed to sparkle a little more intensely than it should, given the ambient light in the room. "What do you want from me?"

xxx

"How many SHIELD guys do you think are in this park?" Amadeus sat on the bench, jittering a little bit as he looked around. His eyes turned back to Kirby every now and again as the young pup eyed the squirrels that flitted around the trees with some desire.

"Four," Xander said, looking around as well. His sunglasses and baseball cap would obscure his identity as well as possible. He didn't think that it would do all that much, if Lilah's suspicions were correct. Still, it didn't hurt. "What do you think?"

"Five," Amadeus said, pulling the earphones from his ears and pocketing them. The SHIELD agents were a chatty bunch, even if they were using an encrypted frequency. Radio was radio. "The driver."

"Right," Xander said, smiling a little as he focused on a couple of men that weren't exactly dressed for the park. They approached down the path like a couple of cubicle monkeys taking a break from work, but for their attitudes. He narrowed his eyes a little as he swept his gaze past them. The forward man was in his forties, with short brown hair. His dark suit was a little too government issue, but Xander doubted that the man cared all that much.

He looked forward again watching the various teens and those older and younger that were enjoying a bright, though cold day, speaking without looking. "So. Smartest guy in the room. I bet you know exactly what I'm thinking."

Amadeus turned his head a fraction, working the thought through. "Yeah."

"And?" Xander said, not needing anything more than a word to convey the protectiveness.

Amadeus nodded. "Not going to happen."

"Yeah, see that it doesn't." Xander took another sip from his coffee, still staring out ahead of him at the grass and trees. "It's midnight, Cinderella. Good luck."

"Thanks," Amadeus said, getting up. He turned slowly and started to walk away, Kirby scurrying to catch up to him. He only stopped to pick the pup up and put him back into place in his jacket, zipping it up to secure the young canine.

The men stopped, and though they didn't seem to be particularly glad to see him, Amadeus knew that they weren't unhappy to see him either. "How's it going?"

"Who's your friend?" Clint asked, looking at the teenager sitting on the bench.

Amadeus kept himself from turning around. "Nobody. I guess we should get going."

"Yeah," Agent Coulson said, smiling a little in encouragement. "Time to go home."

Xander watched as they left, looking up as a fluttering of wings caught his attention. He thought it a little odd that an owl of some sort was flying in the daylight, but then again it was Sunnydale. The unusual had a way of happening in Sunnydale.

xxx

"How is he?" Vi asked, trying to hide her worry, but failing to accomplish it.

Xander smiled in sympathy at the girl, though he had to admit a little amusement as well. He could sympathize with the feeling, he had felt it himself after all. "He's fine. He's on his way, and if a building full of top of the line G-men can't keep him safe, nobody can."

"Good," Vi said, smiling in relief at the news. She knew from the look on Xander's face that her feelings weren't exactly hidden from her teacher. She knew that it was still kind of a crush on the Korean teen, but there was something there at least. She had kissed him on the cheek when they had said their goodbyes, the blush on Amadeus's face clear enough to the both of them. Not to mention the slipped phone number.

"Ahem," Wesley cleared his throat, breaking into the conversation and turning the room's attention back onto the subject at hand. "I believe that we have identified the group responsible for the various demon attacks that we've had over the last couple of weeks."

"That's good," Buffy said, turning her attention to the Watcher. She couldn't say that he had grown on her, but she had to admit, the man knew his stuff. Even if it was wrapped around a core of condescension and stiff upper Britishness.

"They're known as the Horsemen," Giles inserted, getting into lecture mode. All eyes were on him, which was unsurprising, though he felt some annoyance emanating from Wesley at the interjection. "Three of the most fearsome and deadly warriors that ever were."

"Three of them. Aren't they missing a member?" Xander asked lightly, though he felt that it was a little forced. "Should we be checking stables?"

Giles ignored the quip. "Death. They need not a fourth member for death follows them wherever they go. They have a long history."

"Who are dey?" Kendra asked, eyes glinting at the prospect of battle.

Wesley nodded, and spoke again authoritatively, "Ulik, a rock troll from the underground realm of Nornheim. He is known as Ulik the Unstoppable and Ulik the Unconquerable Troll. He is a giant of a troll, and as strong as a slayer. If not stronger."

"There is also the insane demon known as Blackout," Diana said, her voice clear in its appreciation of the danger of the group. "Rumored to be great grandson of Lilith, the mother of demons, he has the ability to call upon the darkness itself. He is also fast as lightning and bears sharp claws."

Xander didn't react, but could tell that some of the others were worried. It didn't sound good, but then again, it rarely did. He didn't exactly relish going up against someone with sharp claws again.

"The leader of the group is Nicholas Scratch," Giles said, his own tone tense with feeling. "It is said that he is of the Harkness line; magic flows strongly through that family. Regardless, he is a supremely powerful and ruthless wizard. A true warlock and cruel in everything he does."

"They might have something to do with the attack last night," Willow said, remembering the report that she had read online. "The O'Tooles' house burned down yesterday. The police said it looked like an accident, but apparently there are some witnesses who say that they heard suspicious noises."

"Who are the O'Tooles?" Giles asked, not recalling that particular story on the news.

Xander shrugged, wondering if it actually was connected. They were the O'Tooles, and not all of them were on the up and up. "We go to school with Jack O'Toole, well, whenever he's not suspended and decides to come to class. But, all I know about the family is that they've been around here for a long time. I don't know if they have magic or anything."

"If they do," Buffy inserted, knowing that coincidences were more than rare. "It could explain the attack."

"If all of the attacks are linked," Giles said, thinking aloud and trying to piece it together. "Then it is likely that the O'Tooles, one or both, were killed to keep something quiet. Or at least, to ensure that they did not do anything to bring undue attention onto something that is going on."

"I've checked the portents and prophecies, there is nothing said to be rising in Sunnydale in the near future." Wesley stroked his chin, thinking about what could have drawn the three warriors to the Hellmouth. He doubted that it was the Hellmouth itself, given that the Horsemen had always been working for another party. Who that was, however, was still a mystery.

"Amadeus said that there was corruption in the government," Vi spoke, looking up at the Watchers. "He said that it had to be someone powerful and high up."

Giles nodded, it did make quite a bit of sense. The ignorance of the situation and lack of knowledge of the dangers that the town held in secret would be much more easily established and kept if there was someone directing it. And the most likely candidate would be someone at the top. "It gives us a place to start looking. In the meantime, I suggest you all take extra care on your patrols. They may not be out in force every night, and may only be attacking specific targets, but we can't be too careful."

Xander grit his teeth, but said nothing. The things that went bump in the night. It was a hell of a thing to have to think about.

xxx

"Senator, with all due respect, this is a mistake." Director Fury had to make quite an effort to keep his tone civil. While he did have friends in the upper echelons of the government, he still had to play the political game. As many successes as he may have, he was still at the mercy of what the people in power wanted and desired. It was the ultimate in, what have you done for me lately. "I have thoroughly reviewed the proposal for the 314 project. You can't sign off on this. It is absolutely the wrong way to go."

The senator from California sighed, and stopped on the steps, rain beating down on the steps they were standing on just past the overhanging roof. The sky was grey and drab, the temperature cool enough to require his overcoat. But, the weather wasn't enough to distract him from the agency director that had "ambushed" him. To think that they were both headquartered in the same state, and yet were meeting on the other side of the country. "Director Fury, the matter has been decided. There is nothing I can do. Even if I was inclined to do something about it. The project will go forward."

"You think that you can control demons with computers and programming? These aren't simple animals, they are thinking and feeling beings," Nick declared, refraining from grabbing the man and shaking him until he stopped being an idiot. That would be near impossible. And would not help, even if it would make him feel slightly better. "And they are filled with hate and evil."

"I have reviewed the same files, Director, and I can assure you, Dr. Walsh and Dr. Angleman's theories are sound," the senator assured. "The technology and behavioral modification have been tested, it will work."

"Rats, the technology has been tested on rats," Director Fury nearly spat out. He narrowed his eye as he gauged the other man. He knew that the computer industry was one of the biggest lobbyists in the senator's state, and that more than a little of the money that past between the corporations and the senator was near the line between ethical and unethical. Still, he knew that the senator did have his state's best interests at heart, even if it was mixed in with his own comfort.

It was too bad that this was one politician that Tony Stark did not have in his pocket.

"Director, Nick, these points have already been brought up," the senator said, sighing, his head beginning to ache. The meetings that he had had over the long day were already adding up. He needed a strong drink and to not have someone arguing with him. "You are still lagging on your own attempts at recreating Starktech. Need I remind you that you have yet to convince Tony Stark to turn over the Iron Man suit to us? We do what we do, because we have to. Now, if you have something new to add…"

"Not something new, something old." Fury looked around and then dragged the senator by the arm to the side of the steps, near one of the large columns that supported the roof. "Do I really need to remind you what happened the last time the government decided to play god with technology and mental manipulation?"

"What are you talking about?" the senator stated, looking around for prying eyes and listening ears. One could never be too careful.

"It was a disaster. Do I really need to remind you of the results?" Nick just shook his head, people forgot the lessons of the past and repeated the same mistakes. A gift and curse of his long life. The old soldier grit his teeth and exhaled sharply. "Fine. Creed. Went psychotic. Off the grid and thirty years later you still can't find him. Kestrel. Paranoid schizophrenic. Went underground; murdered by Creed. Bradley, murdered by Creed. Wilson. Suffered a psychotic break as a result of his enhancements. He's a mercenary now, and completely insane and delusional. Mastodon. Treatments didn't take. He's dead too; literally aged to death inside of three months. And Logan. Behavioral modification was a complete failure. He's amnesiac and went feral. Not only do you not know where he is, but his goddamn files leaked out and we had to cover it up by spinning it into a fucking comic book. The only success was Nord. One out of seven, and you want to start the whole goddamn freakshow over again."

"Weapon X was the past," the senator declared, not liking having to be reminded of a past failure. "The technology and techniques have been refined. This will work. Weapon Plus will work. And if not, well, I hope that you get your team in order quickly then. Because if you're right, then we'll need them. Good day."

The senator broke the grip and turned brusquely, heading down the stone steps to his waiting vehicle. He had enough things to worry about than to reminisce over the past. His work as a younger congressman to get the project funded did not make him responsible for the resulting disaster. Still, he would not let that happen again.

He hesitated a few steps down, turning around as the rain beat down on his head. "Nick, it's not about what we want. It's what is. Get your team in order."

Nick Fury watched him turn and get into his car, slowing his breathing as his anger subsided. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Dialing without looking he put the cell up to his ear. "It's me. I'm not waiting anymore. Get ready, we're moving now."

xxx

Xander closed the door behind him, locking it with easy practice. He was still feeling a little off about the revelation, though it made perfect sense. He didn't know if it was the fact that it was the mayor, or if it was that it had been so easy to put the pieces together. The man had been photographed at different time periods looking exactly alike. It was all so surreal.

Didn't mean that it was him though. That the mayor happened to be immortal and that there was dark magic at work at City hall didn't necessarily mean that the Horsemen were working for Wilkins the Third. But, it fit too well to simply ignore at this point.

"Hmm," Xander said, coming to a stop in the hallway. It didn't feel like anybody was inside, or at least he knew that his parents weren't supposed to bet there that afternoon. Still, he got a funny feeling, like maybe he wasn't actually alone. "Must be getting paranoid."

Shaking his head, he walked further down the hall and opened the door to the basement. It was dark, and he couldn't hear anything or see anything down there, but he still went down. The musty air wafted up his nose, and it didn't appear as if anything was disturbed. The flashes of natural light from the small windows near the top of the walls didn't reveal anything.

It was when he actually got down into the room that he noticed him. Xander couldn't imagine how he had missed the rather serious looking man in the dark trenchcoat. The one eye that was visible was bright and clear, making the man look like someone with all the answers in the world. The man stepped further out into a patch of light, an eyepatch evident over his left eye.

"Xander Harris," the man said, looking him up and down. The file photos were pretty accurate, and Xander did look every bit the normal high school teenager. His bloodwork had come back as well. Clean, which was to say that there were no abnormalities that would explain his impressive abilities. "We need to talk."

Xander said nothing for a moment, as another man came into view, this one white with short light brown hair. He laid a couple of files onto a stack of boxes in front of him, but didn't open them. Xander noticed that the man's suit coat was open, a shoulder holster apparent inside.

"Who are you people?" Xander asked, getting the feeling that they weren't particularly concerned about having broken into someone's house.

"Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD," Nick said, stepping closer and flashing a badge. He waved a hand at the other man. "This is Agent Barton."

Xander glanced down at the closed files. "I think you have the wrong house. The Harrises live two doors down."

"Xander Harris," Clint said, coming closer and smiling. He folded his arms over his chest. "Also known as the Iron Fist. Full on superhero, with the getup and everything. Heard about the thing at the motel. It was impressive work."

Shaking his head and chuckling, Xander stepped closer as well. He recognized Barton as one of the SHIELD agents that picked Amadeus up, but he didn't need to let that bit of information out. It did legitimize the group though. "Sorry, can't help you."

He started to turn around, but was stopped.

"Hey," Clint said, reaching out and putting a hand on the boy's shoulder. It was a mistake.

Like a flash, Xander grabbed Agent Barton's right wrist with his left hand and yanked down, the SHIELD agent stumbling forward. Reaching into the man's jacket, Xander pulled out a black handgun from the shoulder holster. While pulling his hand back, Xander swept out with his leg, knocking the man off his feet and onto a rolled up rug. By the time Clint hit the floor, the gun was already pointed at the other interloper.

Nick just clapped, calm as if completely oblivious to the weapon pointed at his head. "Like we said, impressive. Wouldn't you say?"

Xander wondered if the man was crazy, but the thought was interrupted as he felt the tip of a gun barrel press against his temple. "How the he-"

"Drop the gun," the woman's voice came from the side.

Xander considered, and then did as he was told, willing to go with it for the moment. He tossed the gun to the side, away from Agent Barton who was now regaining his feet. Looking carefully to his right without moving his head, Xander tried to look at the person that had a gun to his head. The wavy red hair caught his attention first, aside from the gun that was still pointed at him.

"So, uh." Xander smiled a little, turning his attention back on the director. "Were you guys planning on just waiting down here until I happened to decide to come down to the basement?"

The director ignored the question, moving forward and opening up the first file folder. "Like I said we need to talk."

Xander folded his arms over his chest, taking a slow step to his left and turning to look at the woman next to him. She was striking, and pretty much amounted to exactly what he would think a super hot secret agent would look like. Pale skin, fair features, and she carried herself in a way that made it clear that she could handle herself. "I suppose you're the one I have to thank."

"Yes," Natasha said, lowering the gun. Though she didn't imagine that he was really that much of a threat, or had been all that worried about the gun that had been at his head.

"Iron Fist," Fury interjected, flipping through the file. "We've been keeping tabs on you for a while. Tracking your movements. You've been busy."

"My movements?" Xander repeated, furrowing his brow. He chuckled nervously. "How closely exactly have you been tracking me?"

"We know about the warehouse," Natasha said, putting her weapon back in its holster. "The money. Arizona. Boston. Charming."

"Let's hold up on that," Nick interrupted, raising a hand. That wasn't what they were there for after all. "I'm here to talk to you about the Avenger Initiative. I'm putting a special team together, with special abilities. It's important work. And, I want you on it."

"Maybe I'm not a team player," Xander said, looking down at the file the man was flipping through. He wondered what was in the other one.

"Your work with the Slayers. The potentials. Xander," Nick chided lightly, looking at the boy. "You're more of a team player than you think."

"The military theft," Natasha picked up where she had left off. It was a little amusing; he had a touch of the anarchist. She could relate. "The woman."

Xander's head snapped to the woman. "Hey, you leave her out of this."

"She's Latverian," Nick said, not taking his eyes off the boy as Clint found his weapon and took up a position by his side again.

"She was born in the US," Xander said, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"True, but her people, the Kalderash are from Latveria, and her passport shows that she has travelled there a number of times over the last few years," Nick explained. He had seen it all too many times himself. "You so sure you can trust her?"

"A twenty-six year old woman. A seventeen year old boy," Natasha went on, it was a familiar pattern. Something she had been involved with in her own past. It had brought down or turned more than one politician in the past. "I'm sure she has all kinds of influence."

"What is this? James Bond?" Xander shook his head, chuckling ruefully. He looked at the agency director again. He was beginning to see what Amadeus had first thought about them. "You think she's a spy? Just because she's from some Eastern European country that has some ruler that you don't particularly like at the present moment?"

"It's been known to happen," Nick replied, part of him wishing that Amadeus was the only teenager that he had to deal with. And while it was true that the particulars of America's allies and enemies and attitudes towards rulers changed drastically and nonsensically at times, the attitude on von Doom wasn't all politics. He deserved his reputation. "We're trying to recruit you, others may be too."

"And if I don't play ball, she disappears? Or what, you threaten to make it public?" Xander asked, face setting hard as stone. "I take the bullet for her. She doesn't take one for me. Is that all you got?"

"Xander," Nick said, shaking his head. It was a noble gesture to be sure, but an utterly fruitless one. Of course, he wouldn't be here if the boy didn't have the strength and stupid bravery that he did. "I'm here to convince you, not coerce you. Look, this type of relationship, you have to look at it from our point of view. Do you really think that people are going to find it acceptable?"

Xander looked down for a moment. "No."

"There are more threats out there, infinitely more powerful than that which the Council and its Slayer can handle," Nick explained further. "That's where we come in."

"And who's on this team?" Xander asked, wanting to change the subject.

"The disaster in New York a couple of years ago? One of them. Strong, proven himself to be a good man," Nick replied, somewhat vaguely. "Iron Man, our local celebrity. And you already met Clint."

"Tony Stark," Xander repeated, a little more impressed than he probably should be. Not so much with Clint though. "But, I have responsibilities here."

"Which is exactly where I need you," Nick said, breaking into a smile. "So it works out for us both."

"And if I say no?" Xander asked, heart sinking a little as he knew what the answer would be.

Nick just looked at him, knowing what the answer already was. "Then people are going to die. It's up to you to decide if you can live with that."


End file.
